Summer days of Atlanta
by BreakingBadFanatic21
Summary: Opening up a hunting shop in rural Atlanta has sparked life into the Dixon brothers. Merle and Daryl begin to assimilate into society and obtain their version of the American dream. While the locals of the rural area breathe life into a disconnected Daryl; a pleasant stranger gives Merle a new lease on life, giving him a desire for a meaningful connection. But could it be with her?
1. Chance Encounter

The Georgia sun beamed against Merle's skin as he opened the doors of his shanty hunting shop. It was hot. No, it was damn hot. That Georgia hot, the heat that would damn near suffocate a man. He had parked his old, red vintage ford pick up underneath the shade of two large trees. The trees had been there ever since he could remember; they were old and reliable for keeping his truck cool. Nature's creations such as those trees were a part of his childhood; when he wasn't raising hell of course. Thriving in nature and hunting were essential parts of him, that's why he put aside his degeneracy and went for broke building the hunting shop. It wasn't much, but him and Daryl managed to pool money together that they had gotten through odd jobs and other...methods...to afford the place.

They had sold the standard hunting items; guns, rifles; as well as tackle and fishing supplies. Daryl sold a few knives. He even showed a few curious men and young kids how to use a crossbow. Now that was popular. He also taught them how to hunt. He hadn't seen such life in his brother before. It was good for Daryl, which in turn was good for him. Anything a rugged good ol' boy wanted, the Dixon brothers had supplied. It was another day, they had barely been open for 2 months but business was good; really good. Aside from a drunk hick trying to rob the place, but Merle and Daryl used their Dixon "charm" to make the guy see things their way. And by Dixon charm they basically beat the living hell out of them. Can't take the country and hell out of a boy, right?

He yawned. "Shit," it was around 10:00am or so which was the typical opening time. He walked through the shop, making sure no shithead decided to help himself to anything. He could only remember 1 break-in, but he didn't have one again after what he did to the guy. He knew exactly who he was, the guy showed up and didn't know what was on him. Merle hit the guy in the head with his whiskey bottle; and when the guy fought back and ran he stabbed the poor son of a bitch in the ass-cheek with the jagged bottle. Now that was fun. The natives still talk about that today. All in all, life was okay right now. This meek shop was his center.

It was a small shop made of brick and wood. The floors, walls, counters and doors were made out of a deep brown wood, but the sturdy structure of the store was made brick by brick by the Dixon brother's bare hands. It was modest and was a reflection of their love of the woods and nature.

He sat behind the sturdy and refined wooden counter and waited. He had yet another whiskey bottle sitting inches away from him. He opened it, taking a quick swig. He put the bottle down noticing a perky blonde making her way in. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. She was just his type. She had some pretty blonde hair that barely touched her shoulders and pretty blue eyes. She wore a simple tank top with jeans, but she was still very attractive to him. "Hey sweetheart," He said, looking her up and down, then smiling. "I think I'm in love with you." The typical Merle Dixon was catcalling the occasional attractive woman. Hell, all he saw was Daryl and a bunch of rugged rednecks; she was a relief for his eyes.

"Take a picture," She said, snuffing him. "It'll last longer."

He licked his lips as she walked by, he just couldn't help himself. "You need help with somethin', gal?" He asked, standing up from the counter as he slowly made his way to the blonde bombshell.

"Where's Daryl?" She asked, whirling around and folding her arms.

He laughed. "Whatchu want with my sweet baby brother?" He asked in amusement, leaning against the counter.

"There's a new shipment of pistol ammo that I'm waiting on," She replied, looking away from him. She didn't fall for Merle's crude demeanor. "Daryl said he'd look out for me and make sure I'm set."

Fucking Daryl. Great with women and barely pays anyone any mind. Shit, the least the little shithead could do was pass a few women his way. But no. That was his dense baby brother. "He ain't gonna be in til' bout 11o'clock."

"I'll come back later, tell him I've been here?," He paused, about to ask her name. "I'm Andrea." She said with her hand in her hip.

"I'm Merle," He said, reaching out his hand. "I'm sure you've heard of me." He mentioned smugly.

She rolled her eyes and regrettably shook his big, calloused hand. "In passing."

He laughed. "You're a funny gal, you know that?"

"And you're obnoxious." She muttered. "I'm only here for ammo, I'll just come back later."

He tuned out that comment and watched her leave. Oh well, it was her loss anyway. He seemed entranced as he saw a dark-skinned woman emerge from outside just as Andrea left, she was sweating and toting a baby boy on her hip. The boy was nothing short of cute, curly black hair and wide almond colored eyes to match his deep skin tone. His mother was an exotic sight to behold. Her attire was new age to him, but she looked like she was aware of her African heritage. She wore a cool, silk blue head wrapping which covered her hair. Her blouse was silk and had elaborate symbols and patterns on it, it rose slightly over her toned stomach while a pink silk pencil dress hugged her slender yet curvy figure.

"Ain't no kids allowed in here, ma'am." He quickly said.

"Daryl told me about a shipment of duck toys that were supposed to arrive today," She replied, gently rocking the young boy on her hip. "My Andre loves ducks." She mentioned with a smile, eying her son lovingly.

Merle laughed. What is this store now? "You think this is a toy store, gal?" Surely their were no toys in the store. It was a manly hunting store. Next thing you know she'll be bitching for a damn cake to be made here for her son.

She sighed. This must have been Merle, Daryl seemed distant when interacting with customers; but at least he wasn't a dick to them. "You're Merle, right?"

His eyes widened. Go figure, a random black lady remembered his name but the hot blonde didn't. He flashed his signature smirk. "I am," He said in a matter of fact way, eying the exotic woman. She was pretty, but not his type. Black women were uncharted territory anyway. "How'd you know?"

She smiled. "The town talks about how you run this place."

His interest piqued. "And how's that?"

"You run a tight ship," She said with a laugh. "The bottle story-"

He chuckled. "Well, ain't nobody gonna steal from the Dixon brothers no more."

"That's admirable," She said, still smiling. A tinge of red flared through his ears. He cleared his throat, this woman was easily impressed with him. Not to mention her boy was eying him as if he were an alien. "Andre'," She gently scolded. "Don't stare."

"Hold on and I'll check our boxes," Merle replied, walking towards the back of the counter. "I haven't seen no toys round' here before," He muttered, rummaging through the boxes. He was surprised to see about a dozen duck toys in a small wooden crate. "Well damned if we don't have toys," He laughed, picking up the duck toy. The toy was small enough to fit in Merle's hand but big enough to not present a chocking hazard for little Andre'. It was good that Daryl thought of that stuff. "Daryl must be running a toys r' us store out back." He joked, scratching his head as he presented the toy to the woman.

"How much?" She asked, gingerly plucking the toy from his hand.

"It's on me," He said gruffly, walking back behind the counter. "Don't mention that I was nice to ya," He warned. "You'll get me run out of town." He said with a faint smile. The natives couldn't find out that old Merle was as soft as silk to black women and their children. He was a bit prejudiced, but he did have a heart for a woman and child.

"Say thank you, Andre'!," She said sweetly to him. Merle curiously eyed the young boy who was waving at him. "There you go!" Merle awkwardly waved back at Andre'. The boy grinned, then turning his attention back to his toy.

Daryl walked through the door, eying Merle and the woman. A sly smile found its way on his face. "I see that you found the toy for Michonne." He murmured, surprised and pleased by his cantankerous older brother's initiative.

Merle snorted. "Didn't know we had toys in this here shop," He replied, annoyance evident in his voice. "This a toys r' us now?" Merle Dixon would have to be dead in the ground to let his proud shop turn into a haven for housewives and their brats to roam and demand for pointless items. A toy duck. What a fucking riot.

Daryl paused. "Naw, it was a request."

He discreetly looked back at Michonne and her boy. He slowly nodded his head. "Okay," He finally said. "But brats still ain't allowed in here." It was a hazard for kids to be seen in the shop. It just wasn't safe for them, not to mention a lot of the patrons of the shop weren't too keen on being subtle or cuddly. The poor brat would be emotionally scarred before he learned to walk.

"Alright," Michonne said pliantly, walking towards the door. She looked back at Daryl. "See you around town, Daryl?" She inquired.

He smiled. "Yeah."

Merle raised his brow as he watched Michonne exit the shop. He laughed. "You're kissin' buddies?" He teased.

"It ain't like that," He said as he leaned against the counter. "She needed someone to see her home a month or so ago," He went on, shrugging. "Her boyfriend dropped her off to look for knives while he ran some errands. Somethin' came up with him and he never showed."

Merle scratched his beard. "Hmmm, a regular?"

Daryl nodded. "Every Friday and Saturday."

Merle had never worked the shop on Fridays or Saturdays, he wanted to blow off steam from the daily grind and conformity of society by indulging in booze and chasing tail. He lived for those nights. Daryl was the more subdued Dixon brother. He was meek, plaint and a bit rough on the edges. Daryl flourished in their shop, he truly loved working there. So whatever shifts Merle didn't want he gladly took.

Merle smiled. "Those are my days off."

"I know," Daryl said with a chuckle. "You should quit chasin' ass for one day and work with me then," He smirked. "You might be able to see her more often."

He scoffed. "You've gotta be fuckin' with me," He eyed him like he was the dumbest guy on Earth for that statement. Merle Dixon just didn't like black women. He didn't hate them, he just...well...he didn't really know himself. "She had a brat on her hip."

"And?" Daryl inquired, shoving his hands in his pocket and looking back at a perplexed Merle. He probably shouldn't have said that, but hey he saw him eying her.

"Andrea came sniffin' round' for you too." Merle said, wanting to shift the topic elsewhere.

"Pistol ammo?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah," Merle said, smiling at the thought of that blonde firecracker. "She was hot, that old blondie," He licked his lips. "You gotta put a good word in for me, baby brother," He whined. "I'd love to fu-"

"Daryl!" They heard Andrea yell, running over and giving him a small hug. Merle was kind of in a way. It was no secret that Merle was most of the muscle and security, but Daryl was certainly more well-liked. He had that aura about him that Merle just didn't have. What he lacked in strength he exceeded in being personable, in a low-key way.

Merle grumbled, making his way out of the shop. He braved the Atlanta heat once more and sat in his truck for a moment. Big, bad Merle did seem depressed, he rested his head against the wheel. He needed booze and a good time, hell; he needed friends. Not those hicks that stagger into his store on a daily basis either. Real friends. Normal friends. He dimly remembered that he'd have to stop by the grocery store for some toilet paper and seasonings for the fish that Daryl caught a few days ago.

He started up his truck and headed down the road. It was still pretty early but he felt work taking a toll on him anyway. He supposed that he was un-satisfied with his personal life. Stability would be nice, other than the shop. Sometimes the shop drained him. Most people had asked for Daryl unless they had actual questions about the guns and knives...or combat. Booze and a good fuck would set him for a bit, until he crashes back to reality again.

He arrived at the meager looking grocery store. After putting his truck in park he got out and walked inside. He grumbled as he scooped up a dark blue shopping basket from beside the door. The damn store was crammed with people. He hated people. The only people he liked were his brother and hot blonde girls that he could get with. It was slim pickings during this visit. He was as soft as a Twinkie walking around, but at least the Antarctic air conditioning felt good on his sun-kissed skin. At least their was that. He retrieved the toilet paper and proceeded to the spice aisle. As he walked into the aisle he saw Michonne attempting to reach for a highly placed spice. He stopped himself from gawking at her round behind as she valiantly reached for the spice. The whole time she dutifully kept her other hand on the cart. Andre was sitting pliantly in the seat of the cart. He was playing jubilantly with his new duck toy, he seemed very well behaved from what Merle could tell. He wasn't keen on kids but little Andre was okay.

Against his better judgment he approached her. "Need some help?"

She stopped reaching and briefly looked away from him. She seemed to be embarrassed somehow. "I like doing things myself," She explained. "but yes."

He walked beside her and reached for the jar of spice. He looked at it. "Curry powder?" He asked with a chuckle.

She snatched it out of his hand. "Don't judge me!" She exclaimed with a light laugh, looking up at him. "Thank you though." She flashed a smile at him. "You aren't so bad after all, Merle Dixon."

He fought back a smile. "Like I said before, don't you go round' tellin' people that I'm nice to you." He put his mouth in a deep frown.

"Why's that?," She challenged. "It'll show that you're human?"

"No," He corrected. "It'll show that I'm a wimp with a soft spot for housewives and cute babies." In order to keep the store up and running he needed to have a certain persona. And doting on kids or women wasn't it.

"I'm not a housewife," She replied, placing the jar of curry in the cart. She turned back to him with her hand on her hip. She was annoyed by the comment and he saw that. "What makes you say that?" She asked. She was dying to know.

"You have a baby and you frequent my shop a lot," He explained. "I meant no harm in it, nothin' wrong with stayin' home and tendin' to your baby."

She licked her lips, drawing attention to how full they were and how lush they probably felt. "Are you married, Merle?"

"No." He quickly said.

"Girlfriend?"

He paused. "No." He regrettably answered.

"I see," She replied, pushing her cart. "A lifelong bachelor." She mentioned with a giggle.

"What's so funny?" He asked, quickly grabbing a bottle of crushed pepper and seasoned salt before hurriedly leaving the aisle. He pursued her as she scanned the aisles for items.

"I never saw you until today," She said, fixing her lips to rebut him once more. "If you hung around at the shop a little more maybe you'd know more about me," She said with a wink. Was she flirting with him? No. "You'd know that I'm not married." Yes. Yes. She had to be flirting with him.

"You sound like Daryl," He muttered with a chuckle. "Always lecturing me." He dimly wondered if she was attracted to him, probably not. If she wasn't married she must've had a boyfriend.

"He's a great guy," She said with a smile. Merle rolled his eyes. "But so are you."

He laughed. "Oh really now?," He asked as he rubbed his chin hairs. His ego was on the up and up. "Are we friends now?"

She shrugged. "If you'd like to be, I suppose we are."

He cluelessly scratched his head. "Alright then, so uh...I'll call you or somethin' and I'll paint your toenails or-?"

She laughed. Did he really think of women as just sitting idly and painting their toenails with their friends all the time? "You're a funny guy, Merle Dixon." She threw a large tin of baby formula in the cart along with a few jars of baby food. She resumed pushing the cart with Merle walking beside her.

"Ain't never been a friend to no woman before." He admitted. The only friend he was with women was friends with benefits. Not only was she taken, but she seemed like a classy lady. He could tell how much she doted on her son too.

"I think you'll learn how to be friends with me," She replied with a smile. "Will you be at the shop tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I can be," It was a Friday but why not? Michonne seemed okay, very nice and refined. But Merle needed a certain type of woman, certainly not refined or taken. "You need somethin' else?"

She raised her brow. "Can't a woman browse?"

"No offense," He said in his southern drawl, rubbing his face. "But I run a huntin' shop, not a boutique."

"I'm well aware." She said with a smile.

He made a grunt of approval. "Alright then, you just gotta leave your boy at home," He said. "Rough sons a bitches patron my shop."

"I'll do that," She rolled the cart past him. "Thanks for the warning but I can handle myself," She replied, looking back at him. "See you tomorrow!"

He forced an awkward wave. "Right!" He watched her go, regrettably enjoying how her ass looked in that sundress. His first female friend and she happens to be black and has a baby. He shrugged. Somehow her color hadn't bothered him as much as most people bothered him, even when he saw her earlier.

Friends. Yeah. And with that he got in the checkout line and was on his way home. Him and Daryl had went half on a cheap rancher, it was certainly a step above the shitty place that they stayed in when they were kids. Merle felt the beaming American dream in his grasp and was content with his meager home and shop.

Now romance was the fleeting thing in his life. Not that he wanted that anyway. All women did was bitch anyways. Dinners and flowers meant nothing so he'd rather get down to brass tacks...and get in them.

He sloppily parked his truck and opened the door, shutting it behind him. The place was a mess, but shit, Daryl could clean. Merle fell onto the black leather sofa and reached for the white, cordless house phone that was on the small mocha-colored end table. He dialed a number. "Hey, Dawn," He cajoled over the phone. "I've been thinkin' bout' you non-stop," Dawn was a pretty blonde from down the road. Her body was stunning in those mini skirts and halter tops that she would wear, but her screws weren't all there. Bur that could easily be overlooked for an hour and a half fucking session. "You gonna stop by and pay ol' Merle a visit?," He groaned into the phone. "I'm ready for you now!," He asserted, already fully hard. "Alright, sugar tits, I'll see you soon." He hung up the phone. He sat there for a moment, then removing his shirt and pants.

15 minutes later he heard a knock on the door. "Merle, it's me!"

As soon as he heard her voice the door flung open and he grabbed her close. "You ready for me?," He asked, pressing his throbbing erection against her thigh. "I'm sure as hell ready for you!" He was dying for release. He never kissed her or ate her or any other woman, their was no point in it. He figured a part of him wanted his lips to touch the right woman's lips, as ass-backwards as that was. But since you can't put a condom around the inside of a person's mouth it seemed logical. Long after he was spent and kicked Dawn out he was still lonely again. No amount of ass would change that and he realized it.

He felt left behind by Daryl. He was growing; emotionally and mentally. Merle seemed to stagnate in the same bad boy and rough and tumble redneck persona. That got him nowhere with the ladies, except the ones who wanted to fuck a bad boy. He thought of not being so bad. But apparently he wasn't that bad anyway, according to Michonne. He was human after all though, despite how he acted he had wanted a decent woman. Who knows?, maybe she could turn him around. However, as of right now their were no viable prospects with his cock leading the way. Oh well. He closed his eyes, drifting into a brief nap.


	2. Friend

Merle woke up to a hard slap to the head. He slowly came to, still groggy and cranky. "Get the fuck out, nobody's home." He mumbled, rolling over.

Daryl looked at his brother in annoyance and sighed, turning away from him. "Ain't that the truth." He muttered under his breath. The last vision that he wanted to see was his older brother naked and spread eagle on the bed. He wasn't a fan of seeing his ass cheeks either. Jesus, life could be cruel sometimes. He figured that Dawn had stopped by. She was pretty much Merle's go-to girl when he was lonely or just wanted some.

Merle stirred a bit, finally giving a delayed response. "Daryl," He mumbled softly. "That you?"

"Yeah, dumbass," He retorted. "Thanks for leavin' me to do all the work at the shop!" He hated being left to do most of the work while Merle went out raising hell and getting fucked.

He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was still disoriented, but quickly caught on to the situation. Daryl was home. Daryl was upset. That's the basics that he gathered. But hell, when wasn't Daryl raising a fuss about something? Maybe Merle would pass Dawn his way for the sake of him shutting the fuck up.

"Put some damn clothes on!" Daryl barked impatiently.

Merle grumbled, rubbing his eyes and placing a sheet over his lower body. "That better for ya, Princess?" He asked with a smirk plastered on his face.

Daryl was steaming mad. "Fuck you, Merle!"

He sighed. "Damn it, Daryl! I was joking!," He yelled, standing up and putting on his lime-colored boxers. Daryl scoffed. "You're so goddamn sensitive!," He looked at his perturbed younger brother. "But I thought you liked working the shop." He murmured, taken aback by Daryl's frustration.

"I do!," He replied angrily. "I just ain't no fan of bein' abandoned at our fuckin' post though!," He complained. "We opened this shop together!" Daryl was passionate about his reckless brother, but he was just as passionate about the shop too. He wanted it to work out, to have a stable business relationship with Merle.

Hearing Daryl bitch to him was like nails on a chalk board. His fervent younger brother meant well, but shit he was annoying at times."Yeah, yeah...," Merle grunted. "Sorry," He ran his hand down his face. "I'll work tomorrow and Saturday."

Daryl nearly fell out. Merle actually listened to his advice? Well damn. It was a happy day in the Dixon household. He smiled. "Really now?," He muttered. "You takin' my advice?"

Merle grunted, shrugging his shoulders. "Somethin' like that."

Daryl flashed his cheeky smile. "It's Michonne, aint it?" It had to be. Interaction with a woman that wasn't a skank would be good for ol' Merle; it'd show him that women weren't just a rack or ass. The lady had wits about her and commanded respect when she walked in a room; not in a bitchy way, but with her warmth and charisma. Running the shop and dealing with his fair share of people made him receptive to such traits.

"I did see her at the supermarket when I picked up some spices and extra toliet paper." He mentioned.

Daryl laughed. "Go figure, it's a small world, huh?"

"Guess it is." He said, walking past him. He was more surprised than Daryl, what were the chances that he'd meet her again at their local grocery store?

"Where you goin'?" Daryl asked.

"To cook this fish before it spoils." Merle answered. Fucking did stimulate an appetite. His stomach growled loud, the painful pangs speeding up the urgency in his slack movements. He walked into the small, condensed kitchen and reached into the primitive white refrigerator. Their bachelor pad was fucked beyond recognition; Merle wanted to tear up the floorboards and put in new ones, but he was busy these days. The whole place was a work-in-progress and gave him constant reminders of what needed to be done.

Daryl followed him, leaning in the doorway. "Toss me a beer, man," He said, holding up his hand. Merle responded with a grunt and tossed him a bottle of Bud Lite. He then helped himself to a bottle. Daryl opened his bottle, the faint fizzing sound of the bottle being music to his ears. Passing a beer and drinking was one of the few times him and Merle weren't at each other's throats; besides the shop. Both men were relaxed and content with a cheap beer and freshly caught fish for dinner. "You gonna try and put the moves on Michonne anyway?" He pressed through deep gulps of the stout beer.

"No, dumbass," He said, turning to look at him for a brief moment. "She has an old man. I don't have no chance," Though he'd love to entertain it... But admiring her from afar was okay too. He had no desire to be a home-wrecker. Being friends would be okay, hell maybe she could tell him what women liked. He took out the fish, laying it on the counter. "Give me your huntin' knife." He demanded, looking up at Daryl and reaching out his hand.

Daryl scoffed, then reaching into the back pocket of his loosely fit black jeans. He handed over the knife. He knew Merle was trying to change the subject. He wasn't pushing a Love Connection between the two of them, but a blossoming friendship with a woman might soften Merle up a bit. Maybe complete the change that the shop had made within him. "You know I'm pretty friendly with her." He mentioned.

Merle raised his brow. "Yeah? And?," He said in annoyance, turning on the stove and reaching for a clean pan in the cluttered dish rack. He placed it on the front right burner and sprayed a bit of olive oil on the pan. "Whatchu tryin' to say?"

He shrugged. "Hell if I know," He said, taking another gulp of his beer. "I'm just sayin' that a healthy friendship with a female could do you some good." Not to mention it'd get him away from Dawn's crazy ass. After dinner the Dixon brothers retired to their rooms on the opposite sides of the house. Merle seemed content; he was fucked, had eaten dinner and was drifting off to sleep once again. He did think about Daryl's advice. Being friends with a woman couldn't be that difficult.

The next day Daryl woke up to a bright beam of sunlight hitting his face. The sunlight radiated between the ruffled blinds of his spacious window. He slowly sat up and attempted to brush down his wild bed hair with his fingers. He sat there for a moment in his black sleep pants, rubbing his still tired eyes. He dreaded his morning routine, which consisted of getting Merle up...among other things. He was so bull-headed and lacked initiative until he was good and ready to move. He needed the firm push of his beloved baby brother. He stood up, promptly stretching and making his way to the other side of the house.

Daryl looked in amazement, noticing the pretentious Merle wasn't in his bed. He didn't hear any stirring around the house either. He went back to his room and checked his outdated flip phone for a message. Sure enough, a text. It read: "Went to open the shop. See you later". He smiled to himself. It had to be because of Michonne. Usually he didn't work on Fridays or Saturdays...and he certainly didn't ever wake up in a timely fashion, unless it benefited him. Which his earliness did in this instance. "That frisky son-um-bitch." Daryl said with a laugh, plopping back onto his bed. Suited him just fine, that meant he didn't have to have the usual knock-down drag out fight with Merle this morning. It also meant that he could enjoy the fleeting luxury of strolling into shop late.

It was about 20 or so minutes after opening and Merle saw Michonne walk in. She wore a form-fitting white, silk sun dress which complimented her lightly-colored head scarf. It wasn't uncommon for a lot of women to be wearing silk those days. It was the coolest thing...aside from nothing. But damned if she didn't wear it well. He admired her form like the red-blooded males before him. They were friends now and she was attached; but that didn't mean that he couldn't discreetly look. Merle Dixon sure did love to look. "Whatchu lookin' for today, gal?" He asked, leaning against the counter with a crooked smile on his face.

She sloppily leaned against the counter and looked back at him. "Nothing really." She responded with a playful smile.

"So why are you here then?" He asked with a chuckle.

"The truth is that I like this shop a lot," She said, the smile not leaving her face. "Andre's duck toy is the only thing that I've gotten from here," She went on. "I just like Daryl's spirit, he's so gentle, you know?"

Merle smiled. "That's my sweet baby brother." Daryl was sweet alright, as sweet as a batch of Georgia peaches. He was so sweet that it made Merle's stomach ache; in the brotherly way of course.

"And now that I've met you, you don't seem bad either." She went on in a matter of fact way. Merle was very interesting and very foreign to her fast-paced, city interactions. He was carefree and a bit aloof to responsibility, aside from looking out for Daryl and the shop. He seemed to be a redneck, country man through and through.

He paused, lowering his head and figeting with a lone piece of shattered wood sticking up on the counter. He didn't need to hear that. He didn't care to know how good he was. "How's your boy?" He inquired, looking back up at her.

"He's doing great," She said happily. "He still loves that duck toy to death."

That bought another smile to his face. He was a sweet kid, usually kids were nightmares at that stage. But little Andre was easygoing and happy.

"Do you want to hang out later?" She blurted out.

His eyes widened. "What?" He asked, laughter escaping him. "Hang out? Are we in grade school?" He teased.

She rolled her eyes. This man. "As a thanks for the toy, smartass," She said, putting her hands on her hips. Not as a date. Heavens no, Mike would never go for that. "And before you cut me off, I was going to say that I'm making a dish with that curry."

He shook his head. "Your old man won't like that." He replied. The last thing he wanted was to be entangled in a domestic dispute becuase he decided to have a friendly dinner with her. He supposed that on the surface it would look kind of shady. He wasn't even sure if men and women could be strictly friends...but regardless, Michonne seemed very prim and controlled. If he tries to make a move he'll probably get a slap to the face, which would be good. That meant he wouldn't be at risk of trying anything on another man's woman.

"He's out of town," She replied. "It won't be anything-"

He huffed, then looking up at her with a smile. Well shit, if he had to dodge some bullets for sharing dinner with Michonne it might be worth it. "Alright."

"I've told him about you when we talked," She assured. What the fuck? She told him and he's okay with that?! That's too good to be true. Trusting Merle to not try to seduce a woman is like putting a fox in a hen house and expecting no hens to be eaten! "You're not a secret friend." She said candidly.

He hadn't been friends with a woman before, but maybe it was a good time to start. Michonne was very sweet and nice; not like the women he was used to. She had standards...morals even. He could learn something from her. "Where do you want to meet?"

"I can meet you when you close shop." She offered.

He rubbed his chin. "I close at 7:00, that alright?" The shop was on the edge of the woods and brush, dead in the country. The mornings and afternoons were their busiest hours. No point in staying open longer than they needed to be.

She nodded. "Mind if I hang around?"

He smiled. "You want to stay here and see a bunch of sweaty rednecks?"

"I think you and Daryl need some company besides each other." She joked. That was an absolute truth. Merle did tire of the endless quantities of testosterone walking in and out of his shop constantly. Michonne being in the shop was like a breath of fresh air to him.

"You have a point." He pondered what her role in the shop could be. He eyed her curiously.

She laughed. "What?"

Then it came to him. "You know how to manage store books?" He asked abruptly.

"Well I suppose that I could pick it up really fast," She replied. "I'm a former-lawyer so besides being in the medical field, nothing is as complicated and daunting as law."

Huh, the woman had brains too. He never saw that in this town. "Are you from here?" He asked, his curiosity getting away from him. Surely she wasn't. As exotic and smart as she was she'd have to be from the city or something; or at least a few towns over.

"I'm from the city," She answered. He figured as much. "About 20 or 30 minutes from here."

He rubbed his chin, looking at her in intrigue. "Oh, a city girl." He teased. He hadn't met a city girl before.

She rolled her gleaming brown eyes and smiled. "You country folk always give city people such a hassle."

He snorted, taking in her fervent reactions to him. Her eye roll and smile were pretty irresistible. "Y'all like everything fast," He said with playful distain. "That's why." He didn't understand city people one bit, but she seemed sharp and straightforward which was rare for the women around his neck of the woods.

She looked back at him as she began walking around the store. "Not everything." She replied coyly. He chuckled as watched her every move, he was fascinated by her. He seemed to crave to know more about his new, exotic friend.

"Alright, bookkeeper," He dubbed her, motioning her back towards the counter. She looked on attentively as he lifted a large tan book from behind the counter. He opened up the crudely constructed book. "Hope you learn on your own," He joked. "Cause' Daryl and I have yet to start anything from the 2 and a half months we've been open." He said regrettably.

She sighed and shook her head. "Are you always this irresponsible?" She asked, rubbing at her temples.

"I suppose on occasion I am," He replied with a slight smile. Managing 2 and a half month old books with hundreds of transactions was certainly going to be a task. Merle figured as much. He quickly pondered a way to make amends for her having to clean up his mess. "But...instead of you takin' me out; how bout' I take you out?" That was way better than her taking him out anyway, he wasn't the type of man that was satisfied with a meal paid for him by a woman...or anyone for that matter. He also was still weary of going to her house for dinner.

"Oh really? Where?," She asked, raising her brow. "It better not be McDonalds," She joked. "I don't work for cheap."

He bit his lower lip in an attempt to stifle his smile. "You're somethin' else."

She eyed the large book, then eyed him once more. Managing the book would be a doozy. Merle Dixon would definitely have to compensate her. She figured she'd hold off on cooking her pot roast and mashed potatoes for tonight. "So where are you taking me for dinner tonight, Merle?" She inquired sweetly, batting her eyes playfully at him.

Daryl just had to walk in on that line. Shit. Merle wanted to wipe that idiotic smirk off of his younger brother's face. Merle's once snarky and stoic face turned into a deep shade of pink. The poor bastard was embarrassed; and as the younger brother Daryl was enjoying every moment of seeing his rough and tumble brother being frazzled by a woman.

He scratched his beard, then inhaling deeply. "You like steak?"


	3. Awkward Meetings

Merle sat nervously on the opposite side of the booth. Thank God that she liked steak, he had a taste for one of Texas Roadhouse's steaks. He was a gentleman and followed her back to her place so she could drop off her baby blue Ford Focus. The ride to the restaurant was a bit tense on his part. It slowly began feeling like a date, he opened and closed doors for her as if he were trained telepathically to do so. Maybe this was a bad idea. They had great conversation but the tension that Merle felt was one-sided, Michonne seemed blissfully ignorant of the "tension" growing in his pants.

He hadn't really taken a woman out before, but mentally he needed to break the pattern of associating women as strictly sexual beings. She was a brat's mother for God's sake...having a full on erection at the dinner table was unacceptable.

"Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?" She inquired, gingerly cutting up her steak. She looked up at him, a bit perplexed by the stoic look on his face as he dug into his t-bone steak and potatoes.

"I'm enjoying this steak." He said with a full mouth. If only she really knew...

She laughed as she watched him primitively chew the steak. "You have a little steak on the corner of your mouth there..." She informed him in amusement.

He blushed, quickly taking a napkin to his thin lips. He made a slight grumble, then continuing feasting on his tender steak and potatoes.

"So what do you do for fun, Merle?" She inquired, taking a sip of her sweet tea.

He did his damnedest not to stammer over his words. "I'm mainly into outdoor stuff," He said gruffly. "Huntin', shootin'," He went on. "I like to camp too."

"You look very athletic, so I imagine that you excel at that kind of stuff." She mentioned.

He smirked. "You can say that." Merle certainly loved getting his ego stroked. Typical man. He wanted to ask her questions, but his questions would probably get him slapped. He was trying desperately to be a good boy, but most of the time the term "good boy" wasn't in Merle Dixon's personality; especially when it came to dealing with the opposite sex.

She took another sip of her drink; then pausing as she honed in on the voices in close proximity to them.

Merle shook his head in frustration. It was the smartass Blondie on a date apparently. He remembered the brief moment that she rebuffed his advances. It was water off a duck's back now, but he still didn't care for her company, her body maybe; but not her company. Plus he wasn't expecting a possible dinner for 4. He put his head on his hand, then hiding the scowl on his face as Michonne called out for her attention. She sure was a social butterfly.

"Oh, Michonne?," Andrea said in surprise, looking back at her. She remembered her in passing in the Dixon brother's shop. What was she doing on a date with a perverted sleezebag like Merle Dixon? Her stomach turned seeing that idiot. "And Merle," He rolled his eyes. Damn it. Why couldn't women just wave when they saw each other? Damn those social interactions. He just wanted to sneak glances at Michonne and enjoy his steak. "Are you two are dating?" She asked, her curiosity overflowing.

Michonne laughed. "No," She replied. "Just two friends going out."

Andrea looked at her with skepticism in her eyes. "Ah, I see," She replied, gesturing to the handsome dark-haired man sitting across from her. "This is Philip Blake." He briefly waved, then putting his hand down in awkwardness. He hadn't wanted to be thrusted into social interactions either.

"Why don't you guys sit with us?," Michonne suggested. Andrea's eyes lit up and Philip and Merle knew both of their peaceful dinners were going to turn into endless "girl time". Andrea picked up her plate and stood up, urging the quiet Philip to do so also. He was a classy looking gentlemen with a designer v-neck black shirt and expensive dark blue jeans with fancy leather shoes. Merle tagged him as a city-slicker too.

Michonne slid her plate to Merle's side and stood up. "Mind if I sit next to you, Merle?"

"Alright." He replied, getting more ridged and tense. The poor guy nearly jumped out of his skin when her leg slightly brushed his as she made her way into the small and cozy booth. The damn thing was too cozy, her leg was brushing up against his constantly as she made small talk with Andrea. She seemed to not notice.

"I didn't know that you and Merle were friends." Andrea teased, giving Merle the side eye.

He reached over the table, grabbing at their passing waiter's sleeve. "Hey," He barked. "Gimme the strongest drink you got." Damn. It was going to be a long dinner.

Michonne bursted out laughing.

"I second that." Philip replied. Andrea looked at him in surprise and Merle smirked. Looks like the suffering was mutual on both man's part.

"I didn't know that you drank, Philip." Andrea mentioned in surprise.

"I drink when I'm nervous." He said, staring into his plate of his half eaten barbecued chicken and corn.

Merle chuckled. "I drink when I need it." And lord knows he needed every drink at that bar. Between having to deal with the awkwardness of meeting Andrea at the same damn restaurant; not to mention the constant physical contact with Michonne. Both men seemed to be on similar ground.

The talking seemed to have went on for about an hour. Damn it. Why did they have to see Andrea and her pretty-boy toy here anyway? Long after Andrea and Philip said their goodbyes, Merle sat across from Michonne once more, 5 glasses of whiskey later.

"Don't tell me that you're drunk," She said with a sigh. "I get that you didn't want to talk to them but jeez! It's called being polite," He rolled his eyes, then fumbling with his wallet. He reached for the tab, it was about 50 bucks...all the drinks he had were about 40. He put exact change and a sufficient tip and stood up. He staggered a bit, and she quickly caught his large body onto hers. "Why the hell would you do that?," All he could hear was nag, nag, nag. But it was a cute nag. A feisty nag. She was so mousy and small, but as prim and proper as she was she still had a mouth and an opinion. After making it outside she opened the passenger's door, then looking at Merle angrily. "Get the hell in."

He paused, registering her anger in his whiskey flooded brain. "It's my truck, sugar tits." He retorted.

"Sugar-?," She shook her head, not wanting to comprehend. "You're piss drunk now get in the damn passenger seat!," She wiped her brow from the thin layer of sweat pooling. The Georgia heat was still almighty, even at night. Wow it was hot. "It's too hot for this mess!," He huffed and got in the passenger seat. She got into the driver's seat and closed the door. "Shit," She said, looking at the numerous levers in close proximity to the driver's seat. "How the heck do I drive this thing?," It was a stick shift. She looked over at the incoherent Merle, then rolling her eyes. "You're too drunk to even put your seatbelt on." She leaned over him to strap him in and he became aware of her and her scent.

"You're very pretty." He said dreamily.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh shut up." She replied, twirling at one of her dreads and looking away. She masked a smile and a tinge of embarrassment. Being complimented by a drunk guy was nothing to be proud of. Her bigger concern was figuring out how to drive this thing. It took her about ten minutes but her determination payed off; no thanks to the drunk idiot in the passenger's seat. She turned on the AC and sighed in content as the cool air hit her sweat drenched skin. The drive back to her place was longer than she expected, especially with Merle snoring like a hog beside her. She nudged him. Their was no way in hell that idiot was dozing off while she drove. He jolted awake.

After arriving at her house she exited the truck; she went up and unlocked the door. She dutifully walked back to the truck and eased him out of it, shutting the door behind her. After getting him onto the sofa she closed and locked the door. She left him on the couch and angled his head towards a large bucket. Hopefully he wouldn't ruin it...Mike wouldn't have been happy.

She retired to her large master bedroom. She plopped on the bed, gently peeling out of her clothes. She slipped into her pink silk nightgown. She was alone again. It was frustrating being in a relationship but not really. She hadn't seen Mike for about a week now; she and Andre' were actually kind of used to him not being around. He had the tendency to go missing for a few days and then come back high or just disconnected from her and Andre'. Merle and Daryl were the only male friends that she had. Well, he didn't know about Daryl, only in passing. But he seemed apprehensive about her striking up a friendship with Merle, but he didn't say no...considering all of his female friends. God only knows if he was cheating or not. Aside from those problems she had a drunk redneck laying on her couch, piss drunk. She shook her head. A drunk redneck had to be on HER couch. She laughed to herself, then falling asleep.

Merle came to, barely remembering what happened just hours ago. It was about 4 in the morning, he slowly sat up. He only remembered dinner, and a few drinks after Andrea and her date joined them. He ran his hand down his face. Damn it. He was drunk at dinner. Michonne was probably pissed, but where was he? Where was she? He wandered around the house, it was spacious and extravagant. He nearly tripped over a lone toy. He cursed and picked up the toy in annoyance. It dawned on him after her looked at it, seeing it was a duck toy. He must've been at Michonne's place. She probably felt sorry for him and drove him back to her place so that he could sleep.

He stumbled upon a large room, instantly honing in on her on the bed. It was dark but he could see that she was wearing a nightgown and her body's lovely curves were bought to his attention. It went up to about her mid-thigh area. She looked breathtaking when she slept, her dreads were tousled and spread out amongst the silk lavender sheets. He could smell her from the wide distance that he was away from her. He wondered what those curves would feel like in his greedy hands, against his mouth and tongue.

She stirred, jolting him out of his lust-filled thoughts. She noticed him in the doorway. She sat up and turned on the lamp on her nightstand. "What are you doing?" She asked sleepily.

"Where's the bathroom?" He blurted out in an attempt to cover his ass.

She yawned. "You can use mine." She said, pointing to the door a few feet to her right.

He nodded, walking awkwardly past her. He closed the door behind him. The bathroom was big too...shit. That's right, she hadn't lived alone. The room was littered with aftershave, colognes.

Michonne went to the kitchen and turned on the lights. She sat down at the large rectangular, black dinner table. Minutes later she heard rustling, then seeing Merle leaning in the doorway looking back at her. "Still drunk?" She asked, still annoyed.

"No," He said, pulling out a chair and sitting next to her. "I'm sorry about that."

"You owe me another dinner." She said, crossing her arms.

He shrugged. "Fair enough," It was the least he could do for getting drunk on her and having her drive his car back to her place. He stood up and tucked in the chair. "Thanks for lookin' out for me."

"Where are you going?" She asked, arms folded and her brow raised.

"I'm goin' home," He said sternly. "Where are my keys?" He inquired, quickly patting his pockets.

"No you're not," Michonne chided. "You're going to stay here until I can be sure that the alcohol is out of your system."

He smirked. "Miss Michonne is worryin' about me?" He teased.

"I need to make sure that you don't do anything stupid," She explained, rolling her eyes. "I'd feel responsible if something happened." She said, looking up at him as she put her head on her hand.

"I'm a man," He retorted with a smirk. "Not a dog, sweetheart."

"Same difference." She replied primly.

Maybe so. He chuckled, pulling the chair back out. He sat down, looking at her with discreet smile. "Well am I a cute dog?"

"What?," She asked with a laugh. "Are you still drunk?"

"No," He replied, trying to stifle his laughter. "I'd just like to know."

She stood up. "Go back to sleep." She said with a sigh.

"I'm awake now," He assured, batting his eyes at her. "You can go back to sleep...," He huffed. "You ain't gotta worry bout' me ransacking the place for my keys." He said with a smile.

She stood up. "Well, I'm awake too. I may as well catch something on tv."

"Nothin' on this late except porn." He joked.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please, their won't be any of that in this house."

"I'm joking," He said, standing up and putting a hand on his hip. This woman was very virtuous. No porn in the household. Pfff. He didn't need that type of stimulation anyway. He did good with his fantasies and thoughts. "Do you like westerns?"

She laughed.

He looked at her cluelessly. "What the hell is so funny?," He playfully chided. "You didn't think my porn joke was funny but you laugh at my suggestions for westerns." He didn't know what to think about this woman.

"Okay then, show me a western." She demanded with a sweet smile as she made her way to the living room. She plopped down on the couch, then patting the cushion beside her urging him to sit down.

He took her advice, sitting next to her. She reached for the remote, turning on the tv. "Now which channel is this mess on?" She teased.

"Mess?," He inquired with a tickled smile. He plucked the remote from her hand. "It ain't mess," He changed the channel. "They're classics."

As they watched an episode Michonne seemed intrigued by the handsome blonde-haired, blue-eyed protagonist riding into a seemingly destroyed town. He shoots each outlaw with such precision. "This is so fake." She said with a small laugh.

"The westerns were real," He retorted. "Where have you been?" He joked.

"Not there," She folded her arms and attentively continued watching. "In these westerns why aren't their any black people?"

He shrugged. "What black person watches westerns?"

"I'm being forced to watch them right now," She said begrudgingly. "What does skin color have to do with anything?"

He stretched out his arms and spread them out across the back of the chair. Shit. She was mad. "I didn't mean any harm by that," He said sincerely. "I like you so what does it matter?"

A smile overtook her face and she looked away, covering her mouth. He said that he liked her. Despite the friendly undertones of the statement it still made her happy. Noticing how dumb she probably looked she forced it away, bringing her arm back to her side. "What other preconceived notions do you have about black people?"

He sighed. "I'm a bit prejudiced," He admitted. "But I like you," He discreetly put his arm around her. "If I did date a black woman she'd have to be like you."

"Like me?" Her interest was piqued.

"Smart, beautiful...not loud," He said. "Assertive and opinionated." He flashed his blue eyes at her. Despite the nonchalant diss on her race she felt entranced by him. As crude and politically-incorrect as he was, he was candid. That brutal honesty was refreshing. He really wanted Michonne, he hadn't wanted a white woman the way he wanted her. She was slender with dangerous curves, piercing brown eyes and long dreads that he'd love to be able to tug on. She looked immaculate and well put-together, even early in the morning hours. She was a good friend but damned if he didn't want to see how she was as a lover.

He pushed those thoughts away and wondered how many nights of hers were spent alone. "Are you always by yourself like this?" He pressed.

"I'm used to this, Mike being gone for a week at a time...," Her voice trailed off in sadness. "Him coming back and not even paying attention to Andre'," She sighed, running her hand through her dreads. "Never mind me, but...to ignore your son is-" She paused, seeing Merle listening attentively. "I-I'm sorry," She stammered. "I shouldn't be telling you all of this...it's too heavy."

"I'm here," He soothed. "If it's too heavy for you, put some on my shoulders."

She looked at him in surprise. "You're...so strong," She managed to say. "How are you so strong?"

"I'm not strong all the time." He confessed. He was far from Superman, and even farther from a Saint.

"I'm not at all these days," She went on. "Things are just so-"

He eased closer to her. "Can I hug you?"

She smiled. She did need a hug. "Yes," He reached over and pulled her to him. He gently caressed her, she looked up at him. He was so warm...and comfortable. He smelled of faint whiskey and musk. He was sturdy and strong, undoubtably sure of himself while still remaining humble. He was so unapologetically himself. She wished some of that could transfer to her, maybe she'd be able to stand up to Mike. "Thank you."

"Sure." He let her lay her head onto his chest. She smelled great, her body was so soft too. He hadn't actually held a woman like this before. It was pretty nice. She was a good woman, too good for him but definitely too good for a shitbag like Mike. If he wasn't condemned to the friend-zone he would show her how a real man treats a lady. Though he wasn't sure how to himself; aside from opening doors, paying for dinner and beating the shit out of anyone who hurt her. He was used to being a man for the sake of strength; being tender and gentle was actually new to him.

But Michonne seemed to be unknowingly pulling out that side of him. He gently rubbed her arm until she dozed off. He snuck a gentle kiss on her lips, they were so full and soft against his. He savored that brief moment of tenderness. Merle Dixon seemed to be growing up, instead of copping a feel of a breast, he had kissed her. He didn't want to do anything else but comfort and protect this woman. She remained in his arms even as they both fell asleep.


	4. The Protector

**In this chapter I don't really describe Mike in any real detail. 1) because I am lazy (haha) and 2) he's an extremely minor character. It is referenced that Mike's incapacitation while being under the influence caused the death of Andre'. Mike was too high to defend his son from the hordes. Michonne hinted on her distain for him when she stated "he got what he deserved". That's just a side-note if you weren't familiar with the brief mentioning of his character.**

Michonne was awakened by the sound of the gravel in her driveway shifting. A sense of panic flushed over her. "He's home," She said with widened eyes, then looking at Merle who was still sleeping soundly. She urgently shook him. "Merle!," She whispered. "Get up!"

After a few brief mumblings he woke up. "What's wrong?" He asked, stretching out and yawning.

"Mike is home!" She said frantically. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. What would she do? This wasn't good at all.

Shit. This'll be a doozy. He shouldn't have fallen asleep with her, he just should have persuaded her to give back his keys and left. He looked at her for a moment, fear and anguish was in her eyes. "Hey," He barked, firmly grabbing her arm. She looked away from him. "If he thinks you're seeing me what's he gonna do to you?" She was so panicked and scared and Merle could feel it as he touched her, as strange as that sounded. He felt closer to her after last night.

"He won't do anything." She assured, her voice unable to sound convincing to herself. She knew what he might do. Everything was one-sided after all.

He didn't believe her. "He'd best not be beatin' on you," He said ominously, releasing her arm. "I won't let him do that to you," He said firmly. He knew about abused people, his shithead of a father going to town on him with everything he could find; then he just up and left. Then Daryl began enduring the brunt of their father's wrath after Merle fled. The first time he found out Daryl cussed at him, said he hated him. That was years ago but he still feels the sting of running and leaving his beloved baby brother behind. So he sure as hell wouldn't leave her. "I'll break his neck."

"Calm down!" She whispered.

He narrowed his eyes. "I know what this is, girl," His eyes penetrated deep into her. "And it dont jive with me!" He was protective over her without a doubt, he was very attracted to her too. He was the typical male wanting to defend his female friend and potential partner. The hell if he didn't want to be her partner. Her man seemed like a joke. She seemed neglected emotionally, and he wondered if she was neglected sexually. He started thinking about sex again, at the most inappropriate times.

"I need you to hide." She said, nearly begging him. She was completely unaware of the flames of desire building in Merle.

Jesus. She was in deep. He scoffed. "If he ain't gonna do nothin' why you gotta hide me like I'm a fuckin' secret?," He pressed. "We didn't do nothin' wrong." She was an honorable woman, a woman who was probably too good for him. He tuned out and put the desires of his cock and male mind on the back burner. This was important.

"Please." She said, gently placing her hands on his heaving chest. He was as tense as could be, from adrenaline and from the endless stream of testosterone flowing through his veins in full force.

He looked at her briefly, then sighing. "Where?"

"Andre's room," She quickly said. "Mike never goes in there anyway. It's beside the master bedroom."

He shook his head. He didn't like this one bit. "Okay." He said, swallowing any other argument that he had. He made his way to his room, quietly closing the door. He was hard for her and angry at her mistreatment. If he was her man he would sure as hell treat her like a queen. He'd fuck her like one too, and put her boy on a pedestal. Fuck yeah he would. He felt the crippling urge to claim and possess.

Mike opened the door, throwing his disheveled briefcase on the ground. "Michonne," He called out in anger. "Where are you?" That snapped Merle out of his primal trance.

She emerged from the master bedroom. "Good morning." She said pliantly.

Merle was listening in. She didn't sound right, she was scared. But she wanted him hidden and he begrudgingly complied.

"Who's truck is that outside?," He asked suspiciously. "Is it a man?"

She swallowed hard. "It's Merle's truck," She replied. She looked at him and could tell that he was livid, his eyes were bloodshot. He had to be jacked up on something. Going on his fake business deals just so he could score some coke or God knows what else. He was paranoid and controlling without them, but with them life was pure hell. "He broke down a half a mile away," She said. "Him and his brother pushed it here."

He laughed. "Merle, huh?," She nodded. "You let him in?"

"Just...to use the phone." She replied, her voice trailing off in uncertainty.

He scowled. "That your thing now? That racist fucking redneck?"

"He's not-," She stopped herself mid-sentence when she saw the scathing look on his face. She slowly backed away. "And I didn't do anything with him! We're just friends!"

"Be honest with me," He pressed, walking towards her. "What did I tell you before?," She was silent. "Speak up, since I know you were having a good time." He mocked.

She tightly shut her eyes. "You...you said you'd take Andre' and leave me," She began crying. "That you'd...have someone kill me if I left you."

That was it. Merle felt rage coursing through his veins. All he needed was a concrete reason. Then he'd be on him like flies on horse shit. He eased out of the closet, putting his ear to the door. "Give me a goddamn reason." He growled, listening in closely. Merle Dixon didn't need a reason, but for Michonne's sake he needed one.

He smiled. "Glad we understand each other," He replied. "It's the same consequence if I find out that you're sleeping with him." He warned.

"He's my friend!," She said back. "And you wouldn't be accusing me if you were actually here with me and Andre'!," She went on. "All you care about is that stuff-"

"The hell do you know?," He snarled. "You got a nice house, don't you?," He was seething. "I paid for that while you raise our fucking kid. You get off easy while I actually fucking do things!"

"That's not true!," She yelled. "I may not work but I do everything for you!" Damn it. What was the point of pleading with this man? He was too sadistic but she thought of what he might do to Andre'. If she left he'd take him. And having Mike raise Andre' would be a death sentence. She didn't want that life for her beloved son.

Merle had listened to the estranged couple argue for minutes at a time before hearing Mike scowl. He immediately knew, and before Mike could bring back his hand to strike her he was behind him, tightly gripping his arm. He gripped his arm so tightly that you could hear the sounds of cracking bone. "What the fuck?!" Mike exclaimed angrily.

Michonne looked at Merle as if he was her savior. Merle whirled him around and punched him in the gut. Mike tried fighting back, but as much rage as Merle had in him for this man he overwhelmed him easily. "You wanna hit on your old lady?," He slammed him on the floor, then putting his hands around his neck. "How bout' you fight on a man," He yelled, squeezing at his neck. "Do it," He pressed. "Give me a goddamn reason!"

"O-Okay man!," Mike exclaimed through shallow breaths. "Okay!"

Merle thought about what Daryl went through and he wouldn't let that be her. "No, I'm gonna beat the living shit outta you," He raised his fist and furiously punched him in the face. "Stand up," He demanded, yanking him up by his collar. Merle had no mercy in him for this man. Beating on a woman was for weaklings, they deserved to be dealt a harsher beating. But the thought of Michonne being beaten sent him over the edge. He was volatile and could only see red. He punched Mike in the face over and over and over again until he lost the will to do anymore. Until he was tired of his blood pooling into his bruised fist. Until his blood lust was quenched. His fury subsided. He couldn't remember beating up a man that badly since a few of the neighborhood boys were picking on Daryl.

He looked back at Michonne, she raced to the kitchen. She felt liberated, but nauseous. He wiped his bloody hand on the comforter and followed after her, leaving an incapacitated Mike laying on the ground coughing. The asshole wouldn't be a threat to her anymore. His pride was hurt more than his bones...but the pain was probably pretty damn close. He saw her leaning against the table, in clear anguish. "You're okay." He soothed rubbing her shoulders from behind.

She turned around in alarm. "Y-You didn't kill him...did you?" Oh God.

He chuckled. "No," He paused, putting his hand on his hip. "Did you want me to?" Lord knows he was so captivated by her that he'd just might do anything to keep her safe.

He got a smile out of her. "No," She looked at him with gratefulness in her eyes. "I...don't want you to go to jail."

He shrugged. "Been there, done that," She seemed surprised by his candidness. But again, such a quality was difficult to find in a man. She felt blessed to have a man like Merle Dixon in her life. "I done a lot of things in my past," He said with conviction. "But I never raised my hand to a woman," He grabbed her hands, looking her unbashedly in the eye. "You don't deserve that."

She bowed her head in shame, fighting back tears.

"How often did he hit you?" He asked, moving her face to his glance. Such a beautiful creature such as herself shouldn't be hurt or tainted. He wasn't a saint but he'd stake his life to keep her safe.

She sighed, pulling away from him. "It doesn't matter." She was unsure of Merle but could definitely feel tension. She was acutely aware of his brooding body language and male desire. That didn't mean that she didn't want to address it. She had never seen a man beat a man like Merle beat Mike, not only did he fight for her honor; but he fought for dominance. She couldn't lie to herself, it was kind of sexy. But she was still hurt and embarrassed by her circumstance.

"It does," He pressed, bringing her gaze back to his. "You need to take Andre' and leave his ass." He urged.

She looked at him in desperation. "And where am I going to go?" Surely her and Andre' would be on the streets or worse.

"You can stay with me and Daryl." He said without thinking. He wanted her and her boy safe. And he could have her where he wanted her, in his house and in his longing gaze.

She laughed, his suggestion sounding preposterous and humorous to her. "I don't think so."

"And why not?" He pressed.

"I'll be crashing the bachelor pad." She replied, a bit weary of staying with two single guys. Imagine what goes on in there...it's probably a mess...and a damn hazard.

He smirked. "What do you think we do, have wild parties in there?," He joked. "I'm a hell of a lot older than I used to be." He assured her. "I don't have no time," He laughed. "Plus Daryl is boring anyway."

She stifled a smile.

"It isn't much but it's safe." He assured her.

She looked at him in apprehension. "Why open up your home to me?"

"You're my friend, ain't you?" He asked, putting a hand in his pocket and leaning against the table. He looked at her hopefully.

"I...I am a housewife...," She replied, a bit embarrassed. "Minus the wife part." She kicked herself for not sticking with her career. Now she would be out of a home and other assets because of that.

He looked at her impatiently. "And?"

She paused. "And I'm not looking to be taken care of anymore," She asserted. "I want work." Their was no way she'd fall into that trap again. Letting a man do things for her. Merle was rugged and sexy, a good ol' boy to the core.

"You're doin' my books, right?" He inquired.

"Yes, but-"

"I can pay you," He said, cutting her off mid sentence. "And I'll take care of you," He looked at her closely. "I can keep you safe," Her arms were folded and she was obviously ashamed of her predicament. She was strong, but the right shitbag or floozy would bring down any woman or man's confidence. He wanted to protect this woman with every resource he had. "No strings." He could see the wheels turning in her mind.

"No strings?"

"No strings," He repeated. She could sense the honesty in his voice. He desperately wanted her near. "Now what things can you take?"

"Our clothes...my car."

He rubbed his chin. "Alright, that's a good start. I'll call Daryl and we'll help you load up your stuff."

Meanwhile...

Daryl was cursing up a storm. He tried calling that dumbass Merle, only getting voicemail. And his damn voicemail was full. He was swamped with customers and that shithead was nowhere to be found! He would definitely kick his ass for that.

Andrea and Philip made their way into the crowded shop. "Hey, Daryl!" She called out amongst the cluster of people walking around the shop and gawking at items. They made their way to the counter. "Business is booming, huh?"

"Yeah," Daryl replied, a bit on edge. "You seen Merle around?"

She smiled.

Daryl looked at her with a side eye. "Whatchu smilin' for?"

"Philip and I were at Texas Roadhouse last night and we saw him and Michonne."

Daryl grinned. "Really now?" His annoyance with his brother subsided with relief and amusement. At least he wasn't dead or in trouble. He was just getting cozy with Michonne. Good. Maybe he won't be such a shithead. Daryl chuckled.

"We talked with them for a while actually," She paused, almost forgetting to introduce her handsome beau. "Oh, and this is Philip Blake."

Daryl reached out to shake his hand. "Daryl Dixon," He said gruffly. "Nice to meet ya."

Philip smiled, gripping his hand firmly. "Likewise."

Daryl's phone began to ring. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket. It was Merle. He answered. "You sneaky son-um-bitch," He teased. "I was about to kick your ass for leavin' me high n' dry down here but since you're with your lady-friend-"

Merle's mouth dropped. As much as he'd like for Daryl's assumption to be true he had to set his fervent younger brother straight. "Ah, you have it all wrong," He scratched the back of his neck. He sighed. "I'll explain later," He pressed. "You know where Michonne's place is right?"

Daryl leaned against the counter, thinking for a moment. "Yeah I do," He muttered. "What's goin' on?"

"I'll explain later," Merle said with urgency in his voice. "Just get down here."

"Alright," Daryl mumbled. "I'll be there," He promptly hung up the phone and looked at Andrea and Philip. "Ya'll know how to work a cash register?"

Andrea and Philip looked at each other awkardly. "Um...I don't think we're suited to do that..." Philip replied apprehensively.

Andrea looked in alarm as Daryl jumped over the counter. She shook her head. "Don't you dare leave us here!" She chided. Surely he wouldn't.

Daryl looked back at her and smirked. He would. "Y'all better learn how to operate a cash register fast," He heeded. "Nothin' like angry rednecks." He said with a faint chuckle. He ran outside and hopped in his black, 1974 camaro. He started up the car and sped off. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he was sure as hell gonna find out. He smiled, thinking about his cantankerous brother getting sweet on Michonne. A date last night...AND a sleepover. Hot damn. Good for him.

"What's with your friends, Andrea?" Philip asked with a half smile.

She shrugged, then sighing. She messaged her temples as she observed the hordes of people lining up with a variety of hunting items. "Oh come on-!" That idiot Merle Dixon owed her big time...so did Daryl.

"Daryl's on his way," Merle said, watching Michonne attentively. She was still shaken up, but she was alright. He was enamored by her, she had such strength to endure such treatment for the sake of her son's safety. That was a sacrifice of a mother that he had never seen from his own. Andre' was lucky to have a mother like her. She was a mother that would protect over maintaining her emotional well-being. He saw her weakness and wounded beauty. He reached for her. She jumped, then slowly accepting his firm touch. She relished at the feel of his arms bring wrapped around her. "You're safe," He cajoled. "I ain't gonna hurt you." God he wanted to kiss her. And so much more. He wanted to make her feel good and numb to all her stress and burdens. Damn, he really desired that woman.

She looked up at him with her gleaming brown eyes. Contrary to all of the rumors Merle Dixon was pretty gentle, and kind too.

"Start packin' your stuff, sweetheart," He urged, pushing back his primal desires. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her more than she already was. "I'll follow behind you to make sure that Sir Asswipe doesn't try anything."

She fearlessly walked into the master bedroom where Mike was laying there knocked-out and disheveled. She felt safe with Merle. He was so kind and strong...and compassionate. He readily defended her and he wanted to take care of her. Surely their had to be a catch. She didn't sweat it though, Merle was a good man, and so was Daryl. Her and Andre would be in good company. She quickly emptied out her dresser and loaded up her neon pink suitcase. She grabbed another suitcase and cleaned out her closet and was able to fit her makeup and accessories. She scurried to Andre's room and packed his clothes and toys. Merle was always intrigued seeing women pack. They can always force their whole wardrobe into one or two bags or suitcases.

"You need to go get your boy, right?"

"Yes." She said with a quick nod.

"When we're done here you can load up your car and follow me back to my house."

She put her hand on her hip. "Why are you being so nice to me?" She questioned. She wasn't stranger to the rumors around the area. Merle Dixon was a man to be feared; strong foul-mouthed...and racist. It was strange, she hadn't really gotten that vibe from him but it's something to be addressed.

"Didn't I tell you before?" He said impatiently, looking down at her. Despite having such rumors swarming around him his cock wasn't racist in the least bit.

She parted her lips, about to reply. She had no idea how sensual that was to him."People talk." In an area like theirs it was a given.

He eyed her curiously, turning his head to the side. "Bout' what, gal?" He licked his thin lips and cracked a grin.

Merle was kind of handsome, she thought while admiring his jagged gestures. But he was a crude country man. "About you." She finally said. But his body looked nice in his dingy clothes. She faintly wondered how his skin would taste against her starving tongue. Lusting after a man like Merle was uncharted territory. He was a good friend and that was all it could be. She pushed her mind's inquiries deep into her being, tuning in for his response.

He chuckled. "Well let the fucks talk."

She eyed him seriously, her hand on her hip with narrow eyes. "I'm serious."

He sat on the bed, kicking Mike's unconscious body out of the way. She looked at him in surprise as he smiled and patted the area beside him. "Talk to me then."

She sat beside him. "So you're...," She paused. "Prejudiced." She remembered their talk last night but she still couldn't believe it. She was attracted to him and she could tell that he was to her.

"Yes."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"I am," He replied in a matter of fact way. "Does that answer things?" He was prejudiced but he certainly liked himself some Michonne. He was all but falling over himself for her. She was a beautiful sight to behold. His beliefs were the subject of many talks and stories. He simply accepted it.

"Why are you helping me then?" She pressed.

He smiled again. "Why's the sky blue?" He asked her, standing up. Truthfully he liked her and didn't want to see her in any bad situation. Maybe she forgot that little blurb. Yeah, she was a black woman. But she was a damn fine one, a good one too. Seemed like they clicked as friends from the beginning, with no effort. It was refreshing, besides the brief moment in the shop he hadn't seen her color since then. He was only aware of the beauty and strength she possessed. She was a pistol in silk. He'd love to feel her beneath his hard fingers, to stroke her trigger until her glorious eruption.

She looked up at him. "I'm serious."

They heard a knock on the door. Merle immediately became alert, his ears twitching at the piercing banging on the door. Oh thank God. He didn't have to explain the secrets of life with her. His semi-hard on was on the way out too. "Daryl, that you?" He yelled back.

"Who else would it be, shithead?!" Daryl yelled back. Typical Daryl and Merle interaction.

Merle chuckled to himself, running to the door and opening it. Daryl looked at him. "The fuck is goin' on?" Michonne emerged from the bedroom. He looked at Merle.

"I need help packing her things," He replied. "She's moving in."

Daryl scratched his head. "Movin' in where?"

"With us." Daryl chuckled uncontrollably. Merle gritted his teeth. "What in fuck's name is so funny?!"

"This is so sudden!" He said with a smirk. Hot damn. Michonne was moving in. Merle was definitely sweet on her.

He hit Daryl upside the head. "It ain't like that, jackass."

"Fuck you too," A perturbed Daryl muttered. "Now where's the stuff at?," He paced around the living room, then walking towards the bedroom. "In here?"

Merle attempted to stop him, to no avail. "I wouldnt go in there if-" He heard Daryl cussing furiously. "I were you." He finished the sentence.

"Did I just walk in on a murder scene?!" He exclaimed, ranting and raving. What the fuck did Merle do?! Why did he have to walk in on crazy shit like this?!

"No," Merle quickly said. "Let me explain," Daryl shook his head, then looking at him attentively. "After dinner she drove me home cause' I was drunk-"

"Shit, Merle-," He sighed. "Well Andrea and Philip are at the shop, she mentioned-"

"They're at the shop?!," He nearly fell out. "What in fuck's name did you leave em' there for?!" Now the pretentious Merle was ranting and raving. The poor man's blood pressure nearly spiked, between his raging hard-on and the stress of having to calm down his nervous brother.

"Cause' some dumbass called me down here," He retorted, shaking his head in disappointment. "Shit, you think the shop is gonna run itself?!"

Merle opened his mouth to rebut his snarky younger brother, but was silenced. Michonne stepped between the bickering brothers. "Can we not do this?"

"Nobody answered my question!" Daryl said in frustration. As usual he was the last to know anything. If he was going to be an accessory to a crime he'd at least need to know who he needed to bury and how!

Merle ran his hand down his face. "Long story short I was hidin' in the closet and heard him about to beat on her, I busted out and beat the livin' hell outta the bastard." He hadn't regretted it either.

Daryl snorted, then looking at Michonne with narrowed eyes and a crooked grin. "Want me to skin him?" He asked, his voice devoid of feeling.

Merle laughed, seeing Michonne look worriedly at him. "You ain't used to the Dixon humor yet." It would be something to get used to, that was for sure.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "At any rate, I'm glad you're both here."

"You mind packing up the rest of her stuff while I take her to get her boy?"

Daryl shrugged. "Go on."

Merle leaned into him. "Don't touch her panties though," He said with a wink. "I'd like to see those."

Daryl chuckled. His brother was something else, he was definitely sweet on her; but he expected that his cock would get him into some strange situations. Daryl then looked at the unconscious Mike. "Let me tie this bitch up first." He replied, reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out a small bundle of rope.

"That's my baby brother," Merle said, impressed. "Always prepared," Michonne didn't want to know why Daryl had that rope in his pocket. The Dixon brothers were rather quirky so any guess would suffice. He looked at her, gently grabbing her hand. "Come on gal." He said, dragging her outside, barefoot and still in her nightgown.

She gasped. "Wait...I'm not dressed!"

"I ain't offended." He said with a grin, helping her into the passenger side of his truck. He closed the door and quickly opened the driver's door, jumping in. The bolts and joints of the old truck whined in protest of his rough treatment. She wondered what he'd do to women. He hadn't been the most gentle...well, sometimes he was.

"I never thought I'd know what the passenger's side looked like." She joked, putting on her seatbelt.

He rubbed his chin, then starting up the truck. "I'm sorry bout' that," He said with penance in his voice. "Do you want to go to dinner tonight?" He asked hopefully.

"But-"

He could already read her mind. "You can bring your boy too," He started up the truck. "You gonna give me directions?"

"Yes," She replied, still thinking about his question. Not to mention the fact that he said she could bring Andre'. "Really?"

He put the truck in gear and began driving. "Really what?"

"I can bring Andre'?" She asked, surprised by his suggestion.

He shrugged. "Why would I say no?"

She sighed. "Never mind."

"It's alright," He assured. "He's a part of you," Her eyes widened. She then shut them, nervous about the feelings she just experienced. Why was he such a good-hearted man? After beating the shit out of Mike and comforting her, and now accepting Andre's presence. She had never been more attracted to a man than she was to him at that moment. "He ain't annoyin' or nothin' so he's alright." He mentioned with a grin. Merle Dixon liked kids, but wouldn't admit it. She laughed, her sounds of happiness fading by a genuine smile of content.

**Thanks for the reviews everyone! I'm having writer's block on my other stories but this one is chugging along pretty good! I received a lot of emails about my Abe/Michonne fanfic. But the Merle/Michonne relationship is where I'm emotionally invested in at the moment. I'm still tweaking the Abe/Michonne story as well...so don't give up on it yet guys! :P stay tuned! Thanks again and wish me luck on the other chapters! Lol. My mind is going all over the place!**


	5. Playing Daddy

Merle and Michonne arrived at Tonya's house. Her house was equally as nice as Michonne's. Well...what used to be hers. He wondered what she or her husband did for a living. Hopefully her man wasn't an asshole to her too. Michonne pulled out her iPhone and dialed Tonya's number.

"Hey, I'm outside." She replied, then hanging up the phone. Minutes later a short black woman with long, black parted hair opened the door. She looked to be about Michonne's age. She was light-skinned but she was pretty. He hoped she was nice like Michonne was. She wore a simple white t-shirt and jeans, Andre' was attached to her petite body; his almond-colored eyes lighting up once he saw his mommy step out of Merle's truck.

"Thank you so much!"

Tonya being her nosy self completely bypassed her grateful friend, watching Merle as he opened his truck door and stepped out. He leaned against the metal frame of it, his eyes not departing from Michonne for one minute. A blind man could see how fixated he was on her. "Who is that?" She asked.

Michonne motioned Merle over to meet her good friend. "This is Merle Dixon," She introduced. "He runs the hunting shop down the road."

Tonya scrunched up her nose and mouth. "I'm well aware of the name." Shit here we go again. He once relished his infamy, but now it seemed to be bothersome in the area of romance. Michonne didn't seem to believe any of them...aside from the story of him stabbing that thief in the ass-cheek. Most of the stories were true, but he wasn't so proud of them now.

"What's wrong?"

"He's that racist sociopath everyone has been talking about!" Tonya said to Michonne, unwaivering in her alarm.

He rubbed at his chin. "Look lady," He said firmly. "I don't know what you heard but I really don't give a-," Michonne put her finger to his lips. Her finger was so soft and dainty, but had authority over him nonetheless. He grabbed her hand, kissing it. "Sorry."

She blushed, then looking at her. "He saved me."

Tonya was surprised to see that "racist sociopath" being pliant and eating out of Michonne's hand. Her response caught her full attention. "What happened?"

She broke down immediately, Merle caressing her petite body. "Mike tried to beat me-" She managed to say. She was ashamed and embarrassed, even mentioning it to one of her good friends.

Tonya was livid. "That son of a bitch," She snarled. She would beat his ass herself if he ever saw him again. "How long?"

"It doesn't matter,"

She looked at Merle. The hell if it didn't. Why wouldn't she tell her? How could that have flown above the radar until now. She felt guilty about not checking Mike out enough. "How did you save her?"

"I beat the living hell out of home boy." He said in a matter of fact way. "Me and my brother are helpin' her pack and she's movin' in with us." She would move in and he could protect her and her boy. He wanted to be closer to her .

She was shocked by all of this. "You have a place with me, Trent won't mind."

"I'm okay with this arrangement," Michonne mentioned with a light laugh. "I have a job at the shop too." She said excitedly. Tonya hadn't seen such life and happiness in her friend in a long time.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Tonya asked discreetly.

Merle's ears twitched. "You want me to take Andre' to the truck?"

Tonya was struck by a feeling of alarm while Michonne giggled like a love struck school girl. "Do you even know how to hold a child?"

"I do," He said confidently. "I took care of my brother for a long time," He reached for Andre', the young boy eyed him curiously but didn't cry. Tonya watched him with scrutiny in her eyes. The two women were surprised as they watched him hold Andre'. "Been a long time since I held a brat," He said with a gentle smile. "The technique is still the same though," Andre' blinked his wide eyes and watched Merle attentively. Tonya's expression softened. He was in awe of the boy, something as beautiful as him came from her. Hs reached in his pocket and pulled out Andre's beloved duck toy. He made a faint sound of glee as he latched on to the small toy with his nimble fingers. "Hey, kid. You wanna take a ride in my truck?"

He eyed the dark blue carseat sitting in the doorway. He picked it up, still waiting for an answer from Michonne and her critical friend. He effortlessly held Andre' snuggly against him with one arm, while holding the sturdy carseat in his other hand.

Andre babbled happily as he looked at the rough man. Andre liked Merle. Maybe he did remember him from the shop and the kindness of him giving him his duck toy. Young children were intuitive about people, and if Andre' was comfortable she could be too.

"We'll be in the truck if you need us." He said, not looking away from Andre's innocent gaze.

Tonya looked at Michonne. "Okay," She mused, still apprehensive. "S o he's good with Andre?" She asked, folding her arms.

Michonne smiled. "Apparently so." She was shocked when her typically vocal friend was silent. She looked back at Merle while he played with Andre'. He made a series of comical faces and gestures at the young boy. He laughed gleefully and eyed the gentle giant of a man. A rough man like Merle interacting so positively with a young child certainly got her engine purring. He didnt bat an eye when he invited her and Andre' to stay with him and Daryl.

Tonya could see the enchantment in Michonne's eyes. "Youd better not be falling in love with that man." She warned in a mtter of fact way.

Michonne laughed. "Oh please," She retorted with a huff. "we're just friends." her insides churned in protest of that statement. They were just friends. He was just looking out for her because it is the right thing to do. Yeah. She looked back at him longingly. That was the most interaction that Andre' had ever had with a male figure. It was nice. Merle didnt see Andre' as a burden either.

"Just friends my ass," She joked, nudging her. "He likes you."

"Friends." Michonne said in an effort to cut her persnickety friend off.

She shrugged. "Well if Andre doesnt mind him i guess i can let up a little."

Michonne blushed. "You act like I'm marrying the man!"

"Well you never know what the future holds," Tonya said with a wink. Only Tonya could go from not liking a guy for Michonne to condeming her to marry the man. "Wouldnt that be something?," She mused with a half-smile. "I mean, he's good looking in a country hick kind of way," Michonne laughed. "Seems like he has firm hands."

She attempted to stifle her sharp laughter. "I wouldn't know."

"Mmm hmm," She teased, eying her to the depths of her soul. This is what girlfriends were for...making fun of each other. "Im sure Mike knows after he beat his stupid ass." She said with a laugh.

"You shouldve seen him." Michonne said, still surprised by his reaction.

"He's protecting his woman." She teased.

Michonne shook her head and smiled. Oh please. Tonya was over the top at times and made inferences that didnt have any basis. Though she was attracted to Merle, very much so. But nothing can and will happen. Being single for a while would be best...not that he probably thought of her that way. He just felt bad for the now single mom. "I'll call you later tonight, girl. Him and his brother are helping me pack," She paused. "And then Merle is taking Andre and I out to dinner."

Michonne could see the wheels turning in Tonya's head. Perhaps she shouldve withheld that information. "Oh, he's trying hard," She teased. "Maybe you should give him a little bit?"

"Sex?"

"Yeah," Tonya replied, rolling her eyes. "I doubt that he wants to just play house with you without utilizing bedroom privileges." She mentioned with a wink.

She discreetly looked over at Merle. Damn. He made eye contact with her as he continued playing with Andre'. He was good with Andre', he was attractive, strong and overall delicious. He wasn't her type though but she did like him. She hadn't had sex in a while either and her hormones were a bit unruly. At this point she'd love to have hot and rough sex with the crude, kind-hearted man. "I'm leaving now!" Michonne exclaimed, very flustered.

Tonya laughed as she watched her walk away awkwardly. She made her way back to Merle. He smiled at her. "See, Andre' doesn't think that I'm a bad guy." He assured her.

"I don't either."

He licked his lips and gave her a look that drove her crazy. He batted his bedroom eyes at her, briefly parting his own lips. He was pretty attractive, and she caught herself staring at his lips. She wondered how soft or rough they'd be against hers. She dimly remembered that he was taking her and Andre' out to dinner. After that she wanted a piece of Merle Dixon. She was too hot and horny to deny her attraction to him at the moment. "You gonna go easy on me, then?" He teased.

She put her hands on her hip and eyed him up. "When have I been hard on you?"

He gently bounced Andre' against his chest. "That ain't what I was getting at."

"Well what is it?" She pressed.

"Nothin'." He was talking about her not being receptive to his attraction and desire for her. Surely she wasn't that oblivious. Or maybe she was. At any rate he realized that he'd have to be more aggressive, not in the sense of being coercive. But being a rock for Michonne. He wanted to get in her good graces, Andre's too. He wasn't the type to pander to any woman...let alone their brat; but Merle did want her and would do anything to have her.

He helped her into the truck and carefully installed Andre's carseat. He gingerly placed the giggling boy into the seat and fastened him in. Michonne couldn't help but be impressed by how he took initiative...and that Andre' wasn't screaming or crying at his presence. Because let's face it, the rugged man was pretty intimating. Merle got into his seat and started up the truck. He looked at her for a moment. She was surprised that he knew how to take care of a kid. He smiled smugly. "I know how to play daddy," He said, looking back at Andre'. Michonne was blushing. Merle Dixon playing "daddy"? How endearingly hot that was to a single mom. "Don't think that I can't." He asserted. Oh how he would love to show her the wonderful things that he could do.

He was silent as he started up the truck. He figured that he'd let her ponder his response. 30 or so minutes later they arrived back at Michonne's house and began loading up the cars with her possessions. After packing all of her and Andre's suitcases Merle took her back to him and Daryl's modest home. She took in every detail as they pulled up into the plain looking yard. Luckily Merle had bitched to Daryl about cleaning up so a bothersome weight was lifted off of his shoulders. Merle got out of the truck, grabbing a few suitcases in hand; he then opened her door. He hoped that she wouldn't hate his meager dwelling. Him and Daryl got that house together, as brothers. But Merle felt a pang of inadequacy as he began showing Michonne around the house. She didn't seem to mind...and at least the Playboys and random beer cans and trash were cleaned up; but the house certainly was a step down from what she had with Mike.

She took his room while he would sleep on the couch. It would be murder on his back but she'd be comfortable and would have room to sleep and tend to Andre' comfortably. He purified his bed and washed everything to the point of it being immaculate. He was rather pleased with himself in that aspect.

Merle got a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I get it's less than what you're used to...but-"

She raised her brow. "You think I care about the size of your house?" The tone of her voice was sharp and she felt a bit insulted by his words.

He looked at her in shock. "This ain't the Taj Mahal." He went on to say.

She was offended that he'd think that she'd judge him by his home or anything else. "Don't address me like I'm a spoiled princess!" She exclaimed in protest. Sure, she had lived in semi-luxury but that didn't mean she was an entitled city slicker like he thought of most of the city people in the surrounding areas.

He was a little perturbed. He scoffed, putting his hands in his pockets. He didn't want to fight with her, but she looked so damn cute when she was talking back and defending her pride. "I ain't tryin' to fight with you," He cajoled, unable to resist her beauty. "I'm just glad that you're here." He muttered.

She turned away from him, wanting to get started unpacking her and Andre's things. She also didn't want to see his sexy gaze. She could feel his penetrating blue eyes on her body and she was slightly aroused from it. Damn. Stop it. She didn't want to think about his look. She didn't want to acknowledge that he was in fact attracted to her. That would be dangerous.

"Glad you're here where it's safe," He said with his southern drawl. Why did he have to talk like that to her? He talked to everyone else the same way, but with her it was different. His brashness was toned down, he even seemed a tad softer and gentle. He walked towards her, then standing silently behind her. He gently smoothed his hands down her shoulders. "I wanna take care of you." He asserted. The feel of his heavy, firm hands tantalized her nerve-endings like a sharp electric sensation. She wondered where else would feel good underneath Merle's touch.

She tensed up after a few brief moments of blissful skin on skin contact. She whirled around to meet his gaze. She channeled her arousal into annoyance as she looked at him with her arms folded.

"I'm sorry." He said with penance evident in his rough and unyielding voice.

Her mind was ping-ponging all over the place. It was too soon for this. They had just met. And she's newly single. A roll in the hay with Merle Dixon would probably be as hot and otherworldly as she thought, but she had Andre' to think about. Opening herself to a man that wouldn't be a permanent fixture was stupidly at its' finest. But damn if it wasn't tempting. She was a mom, but she was a woman too. Being around Merle would be a challenge.

He shook his head. "Forget it," He said, exasperated. "I ain't sorry," He gazed at her longingly and unashamed. Merle was as hot as 9 Georgia nights. He knew this. He just had to, and her body willingly acknowledged his male presence. "Just unpack your stuff and be ready for dinner." He said gruffly.

"Don't talk to me like I'm a kid." She said begrudgingly.

He seemed likely to blow his top. What was her problem?! He let her into his home and she wanted to fight. "Why are you tryin' to fight with me?"

She turned away from him and began dutifully unpacking her clothes. "Thank you for letting me stay."

He whirled her around. "We ain't done, gal," He said, his voice strained. His mouth was dry, his head ached and his cock was hard. Despite her pliancy and control she was feisty and straightforward...except with her desires. He was alive long enough to know a woman. He hadn't met any like her before but he sure as hell would like to know her, in every way possible. "You need to say somethin'?"

Her body was pressed against his and she could feel his male desire pulsating against her. Damn that was hot. "No." She forced herself to say. He was hot. Andre' was sleeping in his crib in the living room and Daryl was out. If she did succumb to Merle's charm who would know? She boldly placed her hands against his chest, wanting to take note of each contour and ridge underneath his shirt. She was exhausted emotionally and unfulfilled sexually. He sighed in relief, feeling her gentle touch. He really wanted that.

He pressed his lips against hers and bought her closer. He parted her lips with his tongue, eager for a taste of her sweet breath. He grabbed a fistful of her course dreads, deepening the hot and needy kiss. The kiss was like gasoline and a flame. The feel of Merle's lips was to die for, while the feel of her lips was irresistible to him. Her perky breasts pressed against his chest and his aroused dick pressed against her thigh. Michonne had the habit of thinking things out too much, but it wouldn't do her any good now. Merle was sexy...and a good friend. What harm would a little adult interaction do?

She kissed him back, reaching down and massaging his cock. He was like newly cast steel against her gentle hands. A moan of approval escaped her full lips and she froze as she felt his hands exploring the front of her thin nightgown. His touch was greedy and uninhibited as he kept his lips against hers. He seemed to be out of breath but feeling her body and connecting with her like this was more important than air. Hell, at least if he died he would have known her lovely lips and curves. He could tell that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Her hands were just as greedy as his and he loved every second of it. He lifted her gown and a low growl escaped his throat. "Don't look." She heeded.

"Why?" He pressed, putting his mouth to her neck and gently suckling it.

"Don't." She snapped.

He felt a patch of rough skin on her upper thigh. Against her wishes he stooped down and took a look. It was a large scar, it may have been a burn. It went from the width of her upper thigh, just the front of it. "Oh, darlin'...," He said softly. He instantly knew. Another scar courtesy of that shitbag. It just had to be. "Did he-?"

"Leave it alone."

Merle's temper began to boil. "He did that to you?" He asked in a frenzy.

"Yes." She said, ashamed as she looked down at him.

"Let me kiss it for you, sweetheart." He cajoled, looking up at her. She slowly nodded. He kissed the scar, gently below the right leg of her black silk panties. She moved up her nightgown, holding it up with a trembling hand. Her lower half was exposed minus her thin silk panties; and his lips did feel good on other parts of her. His lips were a welcomed stranger to her body. He was oh so gentle with her. He was so close to her clothed pussy he could smell her faint musk. The scent was hypnotizing and gripped the depths of his being. He wanted to move her panties to the side to get a quick taste of this Ebony goddess. But he couldn't. She was still hurting and the last thing he wanted was to take advantage. With her none of the rumors about him existed or were true. She seemed to have just thought of him as any other man, which was nice.

He stood up and met her gaze once more. "Get ready for dinner, sweetheart." He said, taking control of his primitive brain.

"You kissed me...and-"

And she touched him. And it felt so good. "It's okay if you didn't like it." He muttered, forcing out his words. Rejection was every man's fear but maybe it was best if he'd just play the good friend role. It would be harder but at least awkward things wouldn't happen. Well, actually it was too late for that.

She smiled at him. "I did like it.

A painful blush claimed his rough and prideful face. "Get ready for dinner," He barked, walking away from her. "I'll pick up some ointment for you later."

"The burn isn't fresh-," She hesitantly explained. "It's-"

"It'll help with the healing," He replied stoically, walking out of the room and in to the kitchen. She watched him go, wondering why he didn't keep kissing her. Maybe he was as conflicted as she was. He leaned against the counter. It was too soon. It had taken everything in him to not continue kissing her, and more. "Shit." He said through gritted teeth. He'd have to control himself. But she kissed him back...surely that meant she felt the same way. No. It was too soon. Most likely she was still upset about the whole Mike thing. He reached for a beer in the fridge, then thinking twice. He put it back. No more drinking.

After getting settled in she changed into a pink blouse and form-fitting jeans with black open-toed sandals. She eloquently put her dreads in a high ponytail. She found Merle in the kitchen, apparently in mental distress. "Taking your sweet time, huh?" She joked.

He grunted. "Where do you want to eat?" He asked, bypassing her joke. She did look good. Damn, why'd she have to look so good? He wanted to play nice but she was irresistible.

"Somewhere fancy," She said with a wink. She bat her eyes at the blushing Merle, relishing in his embarrassment and awkwardness at the moment. For such a tough man he had the tendency to blush like a prepubescent girl. He was something else. "But remember, it has to have chicken nuggets for my beloved." She said with a prim smile.

He smirked, then chuckling softly to himself. "Alright, gal."


	6. Relief and Tension

"You sure you want to wake him up?" Merle asked quietly, observing the sleeping tike. Michonne had put a cute onesie on him that had an assortment of cars decorating the plush material, all the way down to his tiny feet. The brat was fucking beautiful. She was too. He mentally scolded himself for his other thoughts. How beautiful would she be pregnant again?

She smiled. "If you don't want to take us out just say so." She joked.

That wasn't it at all. "Look at him," He urged, still eying the young boy. "He looks so peaceful," He paused. "I ain't tryin' to wake him up."

"He won't scream bloody murder if I pick him up." She said back. She was amused about how mindful and nervous Merle was for Andre'. It was cute seeing Merle dote on her beloved son.

He grunted. "Alright then, it'd be a shame that you got all dolled up for nothin'," He rubbed his chin. "I never been to no fancy restaurant before," He admitted. "but I didn't know fancy ones served chicken nuggets," He teased. He watched as she took the hair tie out of her hair. He looked in awe as her dreads fell to her shoulders. "Whatchu' doin', gal?"

"How about we stay in?" She asked, looking down at her sleeping son. "It's been a long day."

Damn right it has been. Kicking Mike's ass and trying to fend off his attraction for her was hard work. "I can pick up some nuggets and some other things to cook if you like." He suggested.

"I think my prince is down for the count," She yawned. "And I suppose I'm more tired than hungry." She rubbed the back of her neck, wincing at the acute pain.

He figured that she needed to relax and unwind. Truth be told he didn't feel like letting her sleep yet. Maybe he was a bit needy for her company. "What do you like to snack on?"

Her brain was a bit fried from exhaustion. "Huh?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Snacks, woman," He said with a huff. "Snacks." He enunciated.

"I'm not slow..." She complained discreetly, looking back at him. Just like that man, such a smartass. She smiled to herself.

He raised his brow in response to her amusement. "I'm gonna go to the store for more beer, that's why I was askin'."

"Strawberries." She blurted out, remembering that she hadn't had them in a while.

"Alright," He replied, walking towards the door. "I'll be back before you know it."

She looked at the door as he shut it behind him. "He really is a sweet man." She thought fondly, leaning against the wall. He wasn't bad at all, he treated her decent despite being prejudiced. He liked Andre' too, and vise versa. She could definitely fall for someone like him. She shook her head. They were friends. Living with him would be easier if she negated all of the sexual tension or romantic aspirations.

She figured that she may as well lay down on the bed until Merle came back. About 30 or so minutes later she heard a knock on the door. "Who is it?"

"It's Dawn." The woman said impatiently from the other side of the door.

The wheels in Michonne's mind begin turning. Merle had a girlfriend? Better yet he had a girlfriend and was letting her stay with him. Trying to romance her with his brutish charm, chaotic dinners and strawberries all the while he has a woman. A hot flame burned within the pit of her stomach. She opened the door and saw the pretty blonde young woman looking at her wearily. Tch. Typical. A blonde-haired and blue eyed young lady, just his type. Jesus. This was awkward.

"Who are you?" Dawn asked defensively, putting her hands on her hips. She was wearing a tight white tank top and a short denim mini-skirt. She had to be in her twenties. Or either she was one skanky adult woman.

Michonne felt her palm twitch. She hadn't liked that girl's tone. She swallowed her annoyance and anger. "My name's Michonne."

"Are you shacking up with my Merle?" Michonne's eyes twitched at the phrase 'My Merle'. who's to say that she was even his girlfriend? No. She had to be. She was. Yep.

Her face turned to stone. "Yeah." She blurted out without thinking. A part of her hated the thought of Merle with another woman. Who was she anyway? And why was that bastard trying to court her and her son when he has another woman around here? She wracked her brain trying to figure it out.

Both women heard the door open and turned their attention to a stunned Merle. "Uh...," Shit. This wasn't good. His romantic interest and his go-to girl met. Truth be told he hadn't thought about hooking up with Dawn since he started really getting attached to Michonne. "Hey-?"

"Who's this woman, Merle?!" Michonne growled like an angry wife.

He walked towards the table, placing the two grocery bags onto it. He leaned against it and sighed. "This is Dawn," He introduced. "And thats Michonne." He seemed calm for a man that could potentially get his head busted in. But Merle was used to talking himself out of things, especially when he's actually telling the truth.

"I know who this home wrecker is!" Dawn exclaimed.

Michonne turned her head to the side. She was going to show how much of a black woman that she was once she cussed out that little girl and threw her out herself. "Excuse me?" She said, folding her arms.

"This is Michonne and she's my lady-friend," He said, grabbing her and holding her to him. Michonne seemed relieved being in his arms and hearing that proclamation. Though It wasn't true. But Dawn seemed persistant. "You knew our arrangement," Dawn was strictly his go-to girl; his fuck-buddy...nothing more. She was angry and a bit hurt. She exited the house as she cussed him every step of the way.

Michonne had a feeling that they didn't see the last of her. Merle shut and locked the door. He looked down at her, she was livid. If it was possible she would be spitting flames. "What's wron-?" He was stunned by a slap to the face. As angry as she was about Dawn's petty insults she had no idea that he was involved with someone as young, dumb and skanky...and to use her and discard her like he did was no less than a travesty.

He placed his hand on the scorching hot spot that Michonne's hand hit. He was surprised as he was angry. "The fuck did you do that for?"

"You used her...," She muttered. "Is this what you do to women?"

His eyes softened. "Michonne." He cajoled, reaching for her once more.

"Don't touch me!" She hissed, shooing away his hands. "What, you think you're a stud for having a woman living in your house and one at your beck and call?!" He was shocked by her indignation for his actions.

"It ain't like that with you," He assured her through her wrath. "I told you before that I liked you," He went on. "I haven't fucked her in a while." He could've picked those last words better but he was desperate to get Michonne to see that he viewed her differently and more highly. She was probably out of his league but his feelings didn't change.

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. She's the only woman that he ever respected or cared for. "I'd do anything for you," He proclaimed. "Just tell me, sweetheart."

"Go fuck yourself." She muttered, walking away into the bedroom.

"I ain't doin' that," He said with a light laugh as he pulled her to him. He eyed her up closely, she was angry and fuming. Despite that, his laugh was infectious and she seemed to be holding back a giggle or two with her open fist on her mouth. She then folded her arms and had a feminine scowl on her face. She was irresistible even then. "I bought you the strawberries that you asked for and got some chocolate too," He looked at her like a hopeful pup. "I thought you'd like that."

"That was before I found out that-"

He took her into his full embrace. "I'm...sorry," The proud man said, wanting to make amends with his estranged friend. "I didn't lie when I said that I liked you," He sighed. "Other than fuckin' myself what else do you want me to do?" He was all but begging.

She uncrossed her arms, placing her hands on his broad shoulders. She liked his body, broad shouldered, nice chest...powerful hands. His eyes were like blue crystals, they were beautiful and compelling. She also liked him too. But it was too soon. She was surprised at her reaction to Dawn and the whole situation. She couldn't believe that she was actually jealous. But either way the big, bad eldest Dixon brother was the most repentant man she had ever met. That was an enigma within itself.

"Rub my feet while I eat my chocolate covered strawberries." She demanded like the queen that she was. Oh hell yes she was Merle Dixon's Ebony Queen. Even if she didn't know it she was going to be.

"I can do that," He said dutifully as he rolled up his sleeves. "I don't mind spoilin' you," He said with his southern smile. Damn it. At this rate he was going to make her like him more. "Lay down on the couch and I'll get everything ready for you."

"Check on Andre' for me?" She asked through her closed eyes.

"Yeah," He said obediently. Back in the day he looked down on men such as himself. He would've called himself "pussywhipped". But her happiness and her pussy were well worth being whipped and under her feminine spell; mostly her happiness though. He looked in on Andre', the boy was sleeping soundly. He seemed to be the type of boy that could sleep through anything. He smiled and pulled the blanket over him. He was changing and he knew it. But maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

Michonne opened her eyes and saw Merle walking back over with the fleshly dipped strawberries and chocolate. "Andre' sleeps like a rock." He joked, sitting beside her.

She laughed. "He does," She watched as he handed the bowl to her. "Thank you." She shifted her body and stretched out on the couch.

He grabbed her left foot, putting it against his thigh. "What, you're not mad at me anymore?"

She shrugged.

He smiled as he began massaging her foot, he certainly did have a firm touch. But his hands were softer than she expected. She sighed. "The way you massage, how can I be mad at you?"

"I am good with my hands," He bragged, obviously tooting his own horn. His palms twitched to feel other parts of her. Her skin was so soft, perfect even. He moved up to her calves, then up her thighs. She looked at him for a minute. "What, you don't want your legs and thighs massaged?"

"I know what you're trying to do." She said with a smile, finally taking a bite of a chocolate covered strawberry.

He grunted, releasing her foot and looking at her blankly. "And what's that, sweetheart?"

"You're trying to take a peek under my nightgown." She teased.

He chuckled, then licking his lips. "If I wanted to see what was underneath that gown I would've had that thing over your head by now."

She placed the bowl on the end table. "That's a lie." She challenged, trying to hide her amusement. It certainly was.

"Huh, alright...yeah, that's the only lie," He ran his finger down one of her soft thighs. "I'm tryin' to be a good boy," Things were getting interesting now. 'Good boy' huh? She wondered how long he could last. "I like you. Now that's not a lie; I want you too," She sat up and put her hand to his face. Before he could react she kissed him. It was a brief and light kiss but the effect on him was the same. "Can I touch you?," He asked pliantly. She moved his hand and placed it onto her mid-thigh, gesturing him to continue. He put his face against her neck as he moved his hand up her gown. Her scent was unique and drove him up the walls. He couldnt comprehend it but he loved it. "Don't tease me like this, sweetheart," He growled against her. "It's not in my nature to stay good for long."

She plucked another strawberry from the bowl. "Open your mouth," He did so, quickly gobbling up the strawberry. "Kiss me."

He obeyed his queen, he kissed her slow and deep. He penetrated her luscious lips with his eager tongue. The taste of her along with the mix of strawberries and chocolate was intoxicating. He was happy to be her bitch. "You're the first woman that I've ever kissed." He confessed, caressing her thighs in his hands.

She laughed. "What?"

"I've fucked a good share," He went on. Oh yeah, he certainly did. He wasn't the most committing man when it came to the vast quantities of women that he had bedded throughout the years. "Just never found a woman that I'd want to kiss."

"Really now?" She asked with a smirk. As asinine as that sounded it was actually pretty sweet, in a fucked up way. Fucking the little floozies, but not kissing them. He wanted to kiss that special woman.

"Yeah," He said candidly. "It's easy to fuck, just not to kiss...or talk," He kissed her neck. "But it comes so damn natural when I'm with you," A smile lit up her face. "I'd love to touch and kiss you all over." He gave her a few quick love bites. She winced, running her fingers through his messy hair.

"You can touch and kiss me," She whispered into his attentive ear. "You just can't fuck me."

He swallowed hard. He was a smooth talking Casanova before he met her. Now he was as nervous as a high school virgin. "Can I see you?" He asked hopefully.

"Depends on what you want to see." She did like Merle a lot, but going all the way this soon wouldn't be the best idea. Fooling around would be okay. It would keep a man like him on his toes.

"Your tits-, uh...I mean your...breasts." He wanted to be mindful of his language and actions. Michonne wasn't like any other woman. She was the only woman that he had ever actively courted or cared for. The line between desire and just wanting to fuck was very thin. So he wanted to assure her that he liked and desired her. She definitely wasn't a two-bit, go-to girl.

She stood up and gazed at him longingly as he looked back at her with his hot gaze. She slowly pulled down one strap of her gown. Oh, she was teasing; and Merle was all but salivating over her. The top left side of her gown fell, revealing one of her breasts. He wanted to stand up and pull that gown down all the way. The things he wanted to do...

She pulled down the other strap, fully revealing her perky brown breasts. He had never seen a black woman naked, but he liked what he had seen so far. Round full breasts that complemented her full lips, curvy hips and a firm ass. If her top half looked this good he could only imagine what her bottom half looked like. He figured that they would feel as good as they looked. "What do you think?" She asked with a wink.

"They're...real nice," He managed to say. "Fuckin' gorgeous," He bet that her pussy was just as gorgeous. He was rock hard thinking about that. He was anyway when he was around her though. "You gonna come here and let me worship your lovely body?" He asked gruffly.

He looked so delicious sitting there, waiting patiently for her to grace him with her body's view. Merle Dixon was a fine piece of man, their was no denying that. His loyalty to her was as steadfast as their friendship. That was refreshing and liberating. Though she didn't want to give herself up completely to him she wanted to feel the depths of his desire; only with touch, caressing and kissing. "You don't have to touch me," He assured. He figured he would pleasure himself later to the sweet thoughts of her body. "I want to worship you like the fuckin' queen that you are." An erotic chill pierced her spine when her ears heard his sultry words.

She eyed him up and smiled. That smile melted him quicker than an ice cube on a Georgia porch. He was her friend for sure but he was also a man. His legs were spread apart and she could see his erected manhood standing at full attention against his pants. She was impressed, he was certainly worthy of her energy. She walked towards him and straddled him, she took full inventory of his body. From head-to-toe this man was gorgeous. She liked everything about him. She let her hands explore underneath his shirt. He was as athletic as she thought he'd be, even his chest was firm and hard in her curious hands.

He put his lips to hers, groaning at the pleasurable sensation of her hands. "Thought I'd be the one doin' the touchin'?" He whispered against her lips. He loved her hands but damn, it mightve been too much.

She laughed against his mouth, letting one hand drop to his aroused manhood. "I can't touch you at all?" She said, breaking the kiss and giving him "that" look. The look that he yearned to see from her. It was the look and aura of the female authority.

"You can," He replied, powerless to resist her. He couldn't even if he wanted to. That was the beauty of a woman. Only a woman like her could turn him as hard as steel but as flaccid in the knees as putty. He took one of her breasts in his hand. "But it was my request." He reminded her, taking a nipple into his mouth. The feel of his mouth on her engorged nipple was nothing short of intoxicating. The wonderful sensation pierced her through her spiked nerve-endings. A sharp moan escaped her parted lips as he nibbled and licked at each nipple. The combination of that and the friction between his cock and her clit underneath their clothes was hot. She pulled his face to hers, kissing him roughly on the lips as she rubbed against him. The friction of their jagged heat against one another was irresistible.

He kissed her back, discreetly guiding his fingers to her clit. The fact that she was soaked already drove him crazy. However, the fact that he couldn't bury his hard cock deep inside of her drove him to depths of insanity that he didn't know was possible. But that's what would make the sex so good, delayed gratification. Yes.

She moaned softly against his lips, feeling his fingers rub against her. She was desperate for more. She slid her panties to the side as an invitation for his fingers. "Merle," She breathed, feeling the erect fabric rubbing against her bare clit. "Touch me." She beckoned.

"I'd fuckin' love to, sweetheart," He said in his raspy southern voice, putting his fingers to her exposed clit. It felt heavenly under his fingers without the pesky fabric of her panties in the way. He knew that he couldn't see her lower half, but damned if he wouldn't rub, touch and get a good visual in his mind. He'd have marvelous thoughts to rub off to later. He was actually okay with that. She shifted deliciously against his fingers. "Can I put my fingers inside of you?" He asked bluntly.

"Yes." She said through closed eyes.

She was more than prepared for him, she was leaking onto his jeans. It clearly was too long for her. "I'm gonna put two fingers into you," He explained, kissing at her neck. "Would you like that?" He asked with his sexy, southern drawl. She nodded, still enjoying the sensation of him rubbing her clit. He flashed his sexy gaze at her. He figured that she was so aroused that she would reach her climax at any moment. Damn that was hot. She was hot. He pressed his two thick fingers against her tight hole and pushed slightly.

She opened for him with minimal resistance, and sighed in response to the sharp pleasure of his fingers entering her. It had been too long for her. She could feel his fingers moving within her, stroking her elusive g-spot. She hadn't ever came from that, but he didn't lie when he said that he was good with his hands. He stroked her g-spot, then he slowly began easing out of her. She clenched her walls together in protest, keeping his fingers within her. He licked his lips. "Your pussy is the tightest."

"She loves your fingers," She said with a smile as she kissed him once more. "I love them too," She moved up and down against his fingers, closing her eyes as she moved faster against him. He kissed her back, before abruptly stopping her. She made a jagged sound of protest. "Why did you stop?" She asked.

"I want fuck you hard with my fingers," He pulled them out of her, then playing with her clit once more. She was above her threshold and dying for release. She hadn't known the depths of pleasure until now. "Will you let me?" He asked, his voice smokey and hoarse.

"Feeling like this how can I say "no"?" She said with a dazed smile.

He lined up his fingers with her hole once more. "When they go in make pretend it's my dick." There was no secret that he would take great delight in filling her with his thick cock. She was the ultimate tease and he loved every second of it. He'd pleasure her and let her have her fun tonight. However, once she lets him inside of her it would be his turn for pleasure. He doubted that he'd last a minute the first time, but he looked forward to making up for it.

"Okay." She said, licking at her chapped lips.

His fingers entered her once more. "My dick will stretch you out just like this," He proceeded to slowly fuck her with his thick and greedy fingers. She was so wet and tight...everything that he had hoped for. He stifled her moans with his lips, invading her unruly mouth with his tongue. "Can't wait until I can fill you with my cock, just like this." He groaned as he continued. He could smell her heady scent as his fingers went in and out of her. The scent felt like home for him and was what he yearned for.

She wrapped her arms around him and wreathed against his body and fingers. She hadn't known the throes of sexual desire and pleasure until now. Her body was hot, wet and alive against his fingers. He began feeling her inner muscles convulse, ushering her mind numbing orgasm. She threw her head back, moaning aloud.

"Yeah, sweetheart," He grunted, egging her body on. "I like when you come for me," He nibbled at her neck. "That's so fucking hot," The piercing orgasm continued from her pussy all the way up to her spine as he continued pleasuring her with his fingers. "I love hearing you," She bit her lip, wanting to muffle her sound. He kissed her deeply, then released her. She looked back at him bashfully with her beautiful brown eyes. "You're not embarrassed, are you?" He asked with a smile.

She was panting as she looked at him bashfully. What she was embarassed by Merle was enthralled by. She was spread eagle on his lap with the top half of her night gown exposing her lovely breasts. Not to mention Merle had the biggest case of blue-balls. He was still like steel and unabashedly pressing against her. Once her orgasm subsided, she had the nagging urge to cover up. She went to lift up her straps but he stopped her and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. "You don't have nothin' to be ashamed of, honey." He assured.

She abruptly stood up. The throes of desire did a lot to women, practical decision making was at a minimum. He stood up and walked towards her. She adjusted her gown and looked up at him. "I'm going to go to bed."

Damn it. She WAS ashamed, mortified even that she let herself get out of control. The risk of being caught was so high. It was only 11:00 at night but Daryl could be back at any minute, not to mention Andre' was sleeping a few feet away. She was still a mom. She was newly single too, surely nothing like that could happen again. Merle was perceptive of all of her inhibitions and swallowed that notion. He got to see her in a new, erotic light; but he certainly couldn't be "just friends". Michonne knew this and was a bit weary. "Okay." He finally said.

She closed the door, then sitting on the bed and gazing at her sleeping son. At least he was still sleeping and didn't awake to sounds of his mom being finger fucked. She was ashamed of the act and the possible consequences. It couldn't happen again. It can't.

Merle would have to see her at the shop everyday since she's doing his books. So she'd have to acknowledge him, at least a little. Despite the awkwardness of it all he really liked her; that was an absolute truth. He sighed and looked at the closed door. He turned around and sat back on the couch, despite his nagging hard-on he wasn't in the mood anymore. He was depressed, even beating himself up. She was a good woman and he scared her away. Damn. He laid down, put his hands behind his head and fell asleep. Maybe everything that happened that night was a fucked up dream. He wished.


	7. Merle's Decision

Merle woke up to a slap on the head. He jolted out of sleep, wiping sleep's residue from his eyes. He grumbled as his eyes came into focus. It was Daryl. Of course. He should've been used to the brotherly slap on the head by now. "Where the fuck were you last night?" He murmured, sitting up and sliding his feet off of the couch.

"I met a woman." Daryl said with an aloof smirk.

Merle was fully alert now. "Who is she?!" He pressed, grabbing him by the collar. The Dixon brother's interactions were enigmas within themselves.

Daryl smiled, shrugging out of his grasp. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He teased. "What about you and Michonne?" He asked.

"Just friends." He said regretfully. Not for long though, he'd show her that he was for her. Merle Dixon was as determined as he was redneck. His ears twitched as he heard his bedroom door open.

Daryl figured that was his cue to slip out for a bit. He'd tell Merle about the possible new lady in his life later. "I'm goin' to the shop."

Merle nodded, seeing his brother leave the house. He turned his attention to Michonne as she stood in the doorway looking back at him with her almond-colored eyes. He noticed that Andre' had her eyes, her beautiful eyes. She seemed apprehensive about walking into Merle's area. Her mind and body were still reeling from last night. "Hey." He said, awkwardly, standing up from the couch.

She watched him like a gazelle eyed a lion as he made his way to her. "Good...morning." She said in a meek voice. Her heartbeat quickened and her eyes dilated as she watched him slowly advance to her.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a brief kiss, letting his lips linger for a moment. "Good morning, honey." He cajoled, knowing that she couldn't resist his kiss as much as he couldn't resist her presence.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Its a friendly kiss," Now that was a lie. But hey, if Queen Michonne wanted to be friends with him he could entertain that...in his own way. She hadn't stopped him or protested, so that was a good sign. "Now did you want to use the shower first?" Better yet, he wanted to ask if she wanted to use it together. But he didn't want to be slapped again. Despite her small frame she packed one hell of a punch.

"Yes." She replied, walking past him. Why did he have to be so damn charismatic and charming?! She wished his lips felt like barbed wire instead of firm silk.

He gently grabbed her arm, bringing her back to him. "Why are you runnin' from me?" He asked her, flashing his gorgeous blue eyes.

"I'm not," She said, rolling her eyes. "I can't avoid you anyway since we're technically coworkers..." She could barely even look at him.

"I'm your boss actually," He corrected with a sly grin. "You work for me, honey," She groaned. Great. Just great. Mr. Casanova did have to point out the literal stuff. "I ain't a bad boss," He assured. "Promise." He said with a wink. She fought back a smile. He watched as she made her way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. He was going to actively court her, whether she liked it or not, Merle Dixon style. Last night was only the tip of the iceberg, he had so many plans for her. Not just sexual plans but normal people plans, maybe another date. He sat on the couch and waited patiently.

"That Merle Dixon." Michonne muttered to herself as she lathered up in the shower with her hand. All they had was Irish Spring which was the typical go-to scent for most country boys; at least that's what she gathered. Fancy anything was overrated to the Dixon brothers. She'd definitely have to remember to bring her feminine soap and her sponge in with her next time.

She was so hell-bent on sneaking into the shower without interaction, obviously that was a bust. She would never get past Merle's eyes. She grew weak in the knees thinking about last night. The feel of his mouth and hands on her body was to die for, he did have the magic touch that's for sure. She wanted to concentrate on the lukewarm water hitting her body but she couldn't.

Her shower, like a lot of women's showers entailed an introspective look at herself. But damn, she couldn't stop thinking about last night either. He made her come with just his fingers, touch and kisses. He had big hands, thick fingers...and she could only fantasize about how his tongue felt on her most intimate parts. Despite how rough around the edges he was, he surely knew how to please a woman. And she had never been pleased like that.

In an attempt to stop the thoughts she got out of the shower, quickly drying off. She tightly clenched her nightgown in her shaky hand after wrapping the towel around her body. She left the bathroom, making a straight b-line for the bedroom and closed the door behind her. She sighed, then seeing Andre' staring up at her. He just woke up and was most likely hungry. After putting on a red blouse and a pair of black shorts she left the room and went into the kitchen.

Merle could sense the tension as she walked past him. She was avoiding him and he knew it. It wasnt the type of negative avoidance; it was more of the nervous one. She was attracted to him too, and was curious. But she wasn't sure. She reached for Andre's bottle that was on the counter and opened the fridge, taking out his formula. After methodically mixing the formula she went back to the room once more. She handed it to him and he cooed with glee as he began eating.

"How is he doin'?" Michonne jumped at the abrupt sound of Merle's raspy voice.

She looked back at him standing in the doorway. And fuck he looked attractive in the morning, even though he probably smelled of musk and sweat from sleeping on the thick fabric of the couch. "He's fine..." She slowly said, looking away from him.

He approached her, putting his large hands on her shoulders. Unfortunately his touch wasn't a stranger to her body anymore, she grew accustomed to it. She secretly craved it. "Why won't you look at me for more than a minute?" Merle was kind of agitated...and it was no secret that he was a bit of an attention whore. But now he had one woman in his sights, and he was damned near determined for her to see him. He wanted her to acknowledge him, not avoid him.

"I'm getting ready for work," She said through closed eyes. "I'm dropping Andre' off to Tonya's before that."

"Okay," He rubbed his chin. "We can do that," He gently kissed her neck. "You gonna look at me, or what?"

She whirled around. "What?!" She exclaimed, very perturbed as she folded her arms.

"You're pretty when you're mad," He teased. She shook her head, forcing back a smile. "Michonne?" He purred, caressing her tighter.

Jesus. That tone of his voice was...UHH. A good "UHH". His body was really warm too, and hard. "What?" She said with a small smile. Merle Dixon sure knew how to make her mad; but damn if he couldn't make her smile right after that.

"Nothin'," He replied with his bad boy grin, releasing her. He got a smile out of her so he was satisfied for a while. "I'll shower and we'll get goin'."

That man. She may as well throw up her hands, he was too irresistible. It would only be a matter of time before her control fully gave way to Merle Dixon's masculine wiles. She heard the bathroom door shut and minutes later jovial whistling as the shower started up. She laughed to herself. He was something. Actually, he was a lot of things. He was a flirt, a hot-head and he was like a bratty little boy at times; which was really cute. Above all, he was passionate and so unabashedly himself.

He rarely showered with a smile on his face, but what the hell? Ol' Merle knew that he was wearing down his Ebony Queen. She was not easy in the slightest bit, but the chase wasn't what this overly zealous Dixon brother was after. She was a dime a dozen, so surely the most reserved woman was worth doggedly pursuing. She was worth it.

After showering he quickly dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. Michonne's eyes nearly popped out of her head seeing her sexy, redneck friend emerge from the bathroom...bare-chested. "I forgot to move my clothes from the first night." He explained, walking past her.

She nearly had a nose bleed. He was ruggedly handsome outside of clothes too. "How old are you, Merle?"

He grinned as he opened up his drawer and searched for clothes. "What's it to ya?"

"Curiosity." Not to mention that his body was a sight to behold.

He turned around and faced her. "You like what you see, don't chu'?," He asked, licking his lips. He liked seeing her all hot and bothered. "45 years young, sweetheart." He finally answered with a sexy drawl.

"No kids?"

"None that I know of," He said with a smile. Look at him, Mr. Smiley...he knew his effect on her. "But I'm open to the process of gettin' them." Hell yeah he was. He would like nothing better...oh Jesus, he was bold.

She nervously cleared her throat. She figured that she set herself up for that one. "Get dressed." Mr. Smiley struck again. He sure knew how to make her melt beneath him.

"Okay, sweetheart," He said with a wink as he grabbed a simple white tank top and green cargo pants, that was his typical look for the day. He went back into the bathroom and changed. He emerged, then grabbing his black, hunting shoes and putting them on at the door. "Need my help with anything? I'm ready."

"No," She said as she walked out of the room. She carried Andre' in her arms with his bag hanging on her shoulder. "I'm okay."

They both left the house and got in his truck, after Michonne strapped Andre' in his seat they were on their way to Tonya's house. It was another nice...and hot day. It was a little after 8:30 in the morning, but the sun's might was already realized. Merle turned on the AC and the ride was eerily quiet. "You know, you're going to have to talk to me a lot more than you have been..." He told her in an attempt to break the silence.

She huffed, then looking out the window. "I think you talk enough for the both of us." She muttered.

"I'll ignore that because I like you," He said with a smirk, then briefly glancing back at Andre'. "Your mom is too hard on ol' Merle, ain't she?," Andre' babbled happily, then looking out the window at the moving landscape. He looked at Michonne smugly. "See?"

"My beloved son doesn't know any better." She said with a smile. Apparently Andre' was won over by Merle too.

"He does," He joked. "You should listen to him."

"I'll think about it." She said, looking back out the window.

"How old is Andre', anyway?"

"He'll be 3 next month." She answered, surprised at his curiosity.

"And he can't walk yet?" He raised his brow at that notion.

"No," She quickly told him. "I've tried a few times but I don't think he's ready yet."

Merle laughed. "Sweetheart, I came out of the womb walkin'." That was an understatement. Merle Dixon was very...mature, even at an early age. A natural hell- raiser through and through.

She masked her amusement in his humor. "What are you suggesting?"

"Maybe it's time for him to start walkin'," Merle said with a shrug. "I know you're his mom and all that...and you don't want him gettin' hurt but I think it's a good idea."

She blushed. Mike hadn't even pushed the envelope, not that he even cared. "And who's going to teach him?"

"Yours truly, of course." He said, looking back at Andre'. "Whatchu' think, kid?" He asked him with a smile.

Michonne busted out laughing. "Don't answer him, baby," She looked back at her jovial son, he was valiantly reaching for Merle. It just now hit her, Andre' really liked him. He liked him instantly, it was strange but good nonetheless. She looked at Merle who turned his attention back to the road. "Andre' really likes you."

He made a grunt of approval. "All I gotta do is work on his momma now."

"All you do is work me." She said, shaking her head. That was the truth.

"Not the way I'd like to work ya." He said with a wink.

Oh sweet Jesus. Will the insanity stop?! She could only fantasize about how he would work her body from head-to-toe. She saw the way his body looked this morning. Thank God that they were finally at Tonya's house. So her little fantasies could stop.

They both got out of the truck and Merle surprised her by taking Andre' out of his seat. He immediately latched onto him, holding his duck toy tight as he did so. She looked in awe as he grabbed his bag and walked towards Tonya's door. He looked back at her. "What's gotten into you?" He asked, raising his brow.

"Ah...nothing!" She said, finally moving her feet and catching up to him.

Before she could knock on the door Tonya abruptly opened the door. She looked at Merle holding Andre' and almost fell out.

He chuckled. "What?"

"Nothing," She looked at Michonne. She gave her that "what the fuck?" Look. Were the stories about Merle Dixon even true? Couldn't have been. He was like a different man. Not only was he looking after Michonne; he took it upon himself to look out for Andre' too. Wow. Either he was in deep or he was working hard for the coochie. "I'll call you later Michonne." She said as Merle gently handed him to her.

"What did I do now?" Merle asked, running his hand through his hair. Women sure were exhausting...Michonne was worth it, but Jesus her friend was something to deal with. "Girlfriends" always were...

She kissed Andre' on the forehead. "I'll be back for you soon, okay?" She smiled as he giggled happily. She looked in surprise as he reached out his tiny hand to Merle.

"Hmm?," He approached the little boy and eased a finger near him. Andre' gripped it instantly. "Oh wow...he-," Merle was at a loss for words. He was gripped with overwhelming emotions. They all hit him at once, like a freight train. He was happy, nervous and scared all at the same time. His own childhood memories came into play. He gently eased his finger out of his hand. "I'll be in the car."

Michonne and Tonya watched as Merle made his way back to the truck. "Oh my God," Tonya whispered. "He's it."

Michonne turned her head to the side.

"He's...The one." Tonya asserted hopefully.

She didn't completely rebut her friend's words either. "He's...something else," She smiled. "But he's a pretty good person."

"Someone is in love," Tonya teased, gently bouncing Andre' in her arms. "Wedding bells?"

"Tonya!," She playfully scolded. "Stop it!"

"What, he's...cute," She went on, trying to get Michonne to see the light. "And Andre' likes him." She added, looking down at the sweet boy.

"You didn't even like him before." Michonne pointed out begrudgingly, putting her hands on her hips.

She shrugged. "That's before he proved himself." Ol' Merle Dixon certainly impressed the critical woman, that was for sure.

"I have to go...," Michonne pressed, not wanting to take in her outspoken friend's words. "I'll talk to you later!"

Tonya laughed hysterically as she watched the rattled Michonne walk back to the truck. It was only a matter of time, and she actually wouldn't mind her good friend being in the arms of Merle Dixon.

He started up the truck, certain thoughts weighing heavily on his heart. Michonne was shocked at the silence in the truck during the ride. Usually she would be relieved, but something was wrong. Merle's mood changed instantly when Andre' gripped his hand.

"What's wrong?" She asked, batting her eyes at him.

"Nothin'." He said gruffly, evidently deep in thought.

"Something." She corrected with a smile.

He looked at her and almost melted. "We have enough time to have breakfast, is Denny's okay?" They had about 50 minutes before Merle was scheduled to be in the shop.

"Yes," She replied. "Now what's wrong?" Their was no way in hell that he was going to get out of talking to her.

"It's my problem." He barked.

"Stop the car." She demanded, looking at him sharply. She didn't know what was going on, but she was surely going to find out.

He looked at her for a minute. "What?"

She wanted answers. NOW. "Stop. The. Car."

He huffed, reluctantly obeying her. He pulled off on the side of the road and turned on the panic lights. "What is it?"

"Tell me." She pressed.

"Michonne, it's my problem." He said, leaning his head back on the headrest. Merle Dixon was a proud man, when it came to weaknesses he wasn't the type to lay on his belly and spill all his feelings.

"Didnt you tell me that if problems were too heavy for me that I should hand them to you?"

"Yeah." He said, folding his arms. She wore him down in no time, she was very persuasive. And by persuasive she was pushy and hard-nosed. Pushy and hard-noseness combined with a genuine desire to ease his worry. That was Michonne at this point in time. It's also what he needed.

"What was it with Andre' that made you..." She looked at him, he wasn't the introspective type, so when he did think critically and look at himself it was the real deal.

"I...didn't have a father to do things for me," He explained, leaning against the wheel. "Guess it hurt my heart a bit to hear about Mike's shit and him not treatin' you or Andre' right." It made him think of himself and Daryl. His father was an asshole who didn't care about anyone but himself. Having Andre' grip his finger hopefully made him think about what he didn't have. He didn't have hope, or his father's approval...or love.

"Merle..." So that's what it was about. Him and Daryl's childhoods.

"I don't mind doing things for him and looking out for him. He's a sweet kid so...," He rubbed his goatee. "If I can help it I won't see him without a father-figure."

"I don't expect you to be Mike's stand-in...," She assured him. The last think that she wanted to do to him or any other man was trap him into being "dad". "You don't have to feel that way."

"I've decided," She could tell that he was serious. "Even if he ain't mine I'll treat him like he is," He proclaimed, looking back at her. He put his arm around her. "I'll take care of you, Michonne...you and Andre'."

"You don't need to-"

"I want to," He asserted, bringing her mouth to his. "I want to...damn it," He proclaimed, giving her the most smoldering kiss she had ever been given. Damn he was a good kisser she thought as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the gesture. She didn't want breakfast...or to go to the shop; all she wanted was for him to keep kissing her. He eased his lips off of hers. "So hush and let me." He purred, giving her his seductive look.

He was going to give her time, but he would make his feelings for her well known. He'd make sure that she wouldn't walk an inch of the Earth without thinking about him; without realizing the depths of his desire for her. He'd make sure.

"Now let's get some breakfast." He urged, feeling the hunger pangs within his stomach.

"Alright." She said with a smile. He put the truck in gear and they were on their way.

**I really appreciate all the positive reviews and messages that I've been getting! The Merle and Michonne pairing rank the highest in my heart. I really enjoy writing and getting feedback, thanks so much!**


	8. Field Experience

After breakfast Merle and Michonne arrived at the shop. They were about 15 minutes late, between traffic and Merle wanting to order the whole menu. "Daryl's gonna be mad at you." She teased. The last thing that she wanted to see was a Dixon brother smack down match. As funny as it would probably be it would be best that it didn't happen. The grass was littered with pickup trucks, so business must've been really good.

He chuckled. "Shit, he's always mad at me bout' somethin' anyway!" They both got out of the car. "Hope little Daryl is still alive in there."

"What?" She asked with a laugh.

"He's kinda socially stunted." He mentioned, trying to hold back his laughter.

Michonne hit him in the shoulder as they made their way into the shop. "Oh stop it!," Merle paused and chuckled uncontrollably, seeing Daryl talking to a woman at the counter. The son of a bitch was all grins. Oh yeah, he enjoyed busting Daryl's balls. Michonne knew Merle well enough. "Don't you dare." She heeded, still laughing herself.

"Now honey," He lectured. "I wouldn't be myself if I didn't." He said with a sadistic grin.

She rolled her eyes, still smiling. "Who am I to deny the terrorizing of an older brother to a younger one?" She joked.

"Hey, he talks about me too," Merle protested. "He ain't no angel." He walked up to the counter with Michonne at his side.

Daryl huffed. "You're late."

He immediately ignored Daryl's nagging and turned his attention to the woman that he was talking to. "And who is this?"

"I'm Carol, I'm from a few miles down the road," She reached for Merle's hand. "Nice to meet you," Carol was a decent looking woman, average height with short, spikey gray hair and cool blue eyes. She was slender and had well-defined cheekbones. She wore a plain white t-shirt and jeans with well-worn sneakers. "Merle, right?"

Michonne knew that look on Merle's face. It was the "I'm going to make things as awkward for you as I can" face. He gently gripped her hand. "The handsome older brother." He said smugly.

"Shut up, Merle!" Daryl snarled.

Carol smiled at the bickering brothers.

Merle shrugged. "Anyway...this is my lady friend, Michonne."

Lady friend? That's the second time he called her that. What did that even mean? Both women greeted each other and empathized with one another. Both were equally as reserved as the other. Merle and Daryl were handfuls when they were together, but Merle was wild regardless.

"Did she meet Blondie and pretty boy?" Merle asked.

"It's Andrea and Philip..." Michonne corrected primly.

"Yes, honey-bunny." He cajoled like the pliant husband. Michonne's face turned red at the sound of his voice and her new pet name. Daryl gave his elder brother the side-eye, then laughing to himself.

"I did meet them," Carol replied, wanting to offset the awkwardness that she was feeling. "They're very nice."

Merle cleared his throat, then giving Daryl a peculiar look. "So where you crazy kids headin'?"

"I'm gonna show Carol how to use a crossbow and hunt later on," Daryl answered, smiling as he looked bashfully at her. "I'm just showing her around the shop for now."

Merle rubbed his chin. "Alright, I'll be training Michonne since she's my sexy little worker bee," He said with a wink. She blushed and began walking away. She jumped in surprise when she felt his firm hand slap her ass as she walked past him. "I'll be with you in a minute, sweetheart." He said, licking his lips.

Daryl shook his head and Carol silently thanked her lucky stars that he wasn't like his older brother.

Michonne was embarrassed and a bit unhinged by Merle as she walked around the store. He just oozed sex. In her mind she could feel him all over...caressing her, and more. His presence was just that strong. Even when she wasn't thinking about it he found some way to remind her of his attraction to her; and vise versa.

Later that day...

"How's the book coming along?" Merle asked, standing behind her.

Her eyes widened in nervousness, of course it had to be just her and him closing shop. She swallowed hard. "Good," She said, her voice squeaking. She hugged her body as close to the counter as she could to avoid his body, to no avail. She felt his broad body against her small-framed one. He pressed against her, leaning into her with an arm on each side of her. She felt as secure as she felt trapped. He gingerly moved her dreads to the side and kissed the back of her neck. The gentle sensation sent a spark of fire through her labored veins. He then kissed the side of her neck, a light moan escaping her full lips. "Ah, is this sexual harassment in the workplace." She said with a half smile. She wanted to offset that she was aware of his hard dick pressing against her lower back and ass.

He chuckled, putting his hands on hers and nuzzling against her. He wanted to ignore his cock for a few minutes. "Sweetheart, this is after hours," He joked with a seductive tinge to his southern voice. "After hours don't count." He liked joking with her and making her laugh.

Her discomfort melted into amusement, just like he hoped. She failed to stifle her sharp laughter.

"See, ain't you glad that I'm here?," He asked, releasing her and moving to her side. "I make you laugh." He turned his gaze to the book.

"Yeah, you're something." She replied as she playfully rolled her eyes.

She should've told him something that he didn't know. He ran his hand through his hair, flashing her a quick smile. "You're doin' great," He praised. "You work fast, I see."

She blushed and folded her arms. "Managing a book isn't hard." She said dismissively.

He looked at her and flashed that bad boy grin. Her attempt at a stony demeanor crumbled. "You ever think it's cause' I wanna see your pretty little body sashayin' round' here-?"

"I should've figured." She muttered, putting her hands on her hips.

"You didn't let me finish," He playfully scolded. "And I was also gonna say that I like your company round' here." She was like a breath of fresh air being in the shop; she seemed to have kept him grounded too. And lord knows Merle Dixon needed "grounding".

"Yeah, yeah..." She said back.

He turned his head to the side, surveying her reaction. "Do you wanna go out for dinner?" He asked hopefully.

"Hmm, well how about I make you dinner." She suggested.

He laughed. "What, you can cook?"

Michonne was both amused and insulted by that remark. She put her hands on her hips once more, asserting herself. "Of course I can cook, Merle," She did her signature eye roll. "When you saw me in the supermarket I wasn't putting peanut butter and ramen noodles in my cart." That man had some nerve.

He liked when she got all feisty. "I know that, sweetheart," He said, kissing the side of her face. "What are you gonna make for me then?" He was a little excited that the lovely Michonne was offering to cook for him.

"I shouldn't make anything for your behind." She retorted, turning up her nose at him.

"Hey," He whined. "I was only bullshittin' with you," He didn't want her mad at him. Jesus. "Don't be like that to me." He begged like a repentant pup.

A wide smile forced its way on her face as she attempted to hide her faint laugh. "You're really cute when you whine like a puppy!" She teased.

He scratched his head. It dawned on him, she was kidding. He sighed in relief. "Don't play with me like that!," He complained, laughing at himself. "I'm tryin' to keep you happy...you know the sayin'."

"If momma ain't happy, nobody's happy," She recited proudly. "And don't you forget it." She said with a wink, putting her finger to his chest.

He grabbed her hand and gently bought it to his lips. "I'll keep that in mind, my sweet chocolate drop." He cajoled.

She relished in his worship of her. That's right, Beyoncé...eat your heart out. She flashed a smile at him and he nearly turned to mush. "Name it and I'll make it." She said sweetly.

He paused, looking down at her curiously. "Surprise me." He did love surprises...the combination of the beautiful Michonne and food, what could possibly go wrong?

"Alright, then drive me back so I can pick up my car and then I'll go to the supermarket," She paused. "Um, if you don't mind I mean." She hadn't wanted to be overly dependent or needy.

"You know I don't," He cajoled, keeping a firm hold on her hand. "Go on to the truck and I'll be out in a few minutes once I lock up." He reluctantly released her hand. He watched her leave the shop, then turning his attention to his task at hand. He needed to straighten the shelves and merchandise. He also had to make sure the windows and entry ways are locked up. Daryl counted all of the inventory so luckily that responsibility was covered. He hated doing inventory anyway.

Michonne walked towards the truck, then stopping to admire the clear sky. The sun was as bright and glaring as ever, even as sunset was 2 or so hours away. The scenery was certainly peaceful; she never really knew peace in the city. She hadn't even known peace in her life besides her beloved son. Mike seemed to have been a dark cloud over her life until recently. That was until Merle came to her aid. He seemed to have liberated her, but she was still subdued in more ways than one. Sex was but a forethought...except when Merle's thick fingers were knuckle-deep inside of her. She was plagued with the tantalizing thoughts of him possibly doing more. She bit her lip as her inner muscles clenched with a primitive need.

She did need his fingers inside of her, better yet; she needed his hard cock. Maybe even his tongue...but she needed something. Sex was natural, so why had she been so ashamed? With the steady connection that she had been building with Merle, it shouldn't be a surprise that she looked to him. She hadn't felt as connected to any other man before. She was wise enough to know that connections bred attraction...then the rest was history, or rather hot, animalistic sex. Why was she thinking about sex at the most inopportune times?

She jumped, hearing Merle call out to her as he walked towards her. "Why ain't you in the truck, sweetheart?" He was blissfully ignorant of the desire building within her.

"I was looking at the sky," She answered, looking back at him. "It's peaceful."

He smiled, looking up at the sky with her. "Only peace I ever known," He said with simplicity in his voice. He truly appreciated nature and the outdoors. Denying nature and human desires was foolish to him. "Nature is real...uncensored." He turned his cool, blue eyes at her. He liked the raw, animalistic actions and desires. He wanted that, naturally it felt right.

She turned to face him, putting her hand to his face. He watched her attentively with his intense eyes. She kissed him slow and deep. She wanted him to know how real things could be with her. He put his hand behind her head and returned the favor. She was as beautiful and raw as nature to him and he wanted every inch of her. He wanted to throw her over the hood and plow into her. No censoring, no inhibitions. As ready as he was he knew that she still wasn't, no matter how much she wreathed against him or kissed him maddeningly.

"I want to eat that sweet pussy of yours," He said in a guttural and lusty tone. Instead of dinner he instantly bypassed that notion for dessert. He could only imagine her spread eagle on his bed, just for his eyes. He wanted to show her the wonders of being uninhibited and wild. He saw glimpses of her wild, primitive side the other night, and he wanted to see more. It would be his personal mission to pleasure her like every woman should be. "Will you let me do that for you?" It was as much for him as it was for her. It would bring joy to his heart to have his face nose-deep in her hot, womanly essence.

She was breathing heavily. "I would like that." She whispered in a matter of fact way. It must've been the country air that got to her, either way he was turned on.

He grabbed her hand, walking towards the back of the store. Their was a small field out back, leading up to a nearby wooded and grassy area. "I want to get a sample of what I'll be gettin' someday," He said, easing her up against a tree. "Guess you can say that I'm a bit impatient." He joked, bringing his lips to hers. His kisses always felt so right. As he kissed her she faintly wondered if anyone could see them from the road. But a part of her didn't care, she wanted him now...in the only way she'd let herself have him.

She didn't want his first time seeing her to be in a forest. She didn't want him to know how sentimental she was. He liked her, and she liked him...but he wanted to fool around. She did too, but she felt guilt because her feelings and desires were so sudden. They were nearly instant. From the beginning his loyalty was second to none to her and her son. Surely their interactions had more value than the sake of rubbing warm bodies. She was sure that it did, she just couldn't fully give her body to him quite yet. It just wasn't time. No. But stimulation was okay. She was still a vixen deep, down inside.

As he continued kissing her he felt her hands fumbling with his belt. "Do you think someone will see us?" She asked against his lips.

"Dont think so," He answered, hoarsely. "But if so they might catch a good show." He joked, then going silent as he heard the sound of his zipper. What was she going to do? He wondered and his cock throbbed with excitement. He cursed as he felt her dainty hand reach into his pants, then into his loose-fitting boxers. What was she doing?! A low pitched groan escaped his lips as he felt her hand around his thick, pulsating shaft. Her grip was firm, but her fingers were still feminine and soft against him. Her feminine touch sent shock waves throughout his eager body. He was so focused on her lovely body he hadn't even thought of how her hands would feel. But they felt amazing against his hard flesh.

She smiled, then giving him a brief kiss. "I love how it feels." She whispered to him. It felt so hard...and hot. It felt alive; it was desire and need in the rawest form. She didn't want him to eat her here. No. She was in the mood to give him pleasure. She wanted him as on the edge as she was. She wanted to see the searing heat of his release, to see the look on his sexy, over-confident face.

He was at a loss for words at she tightened her grip, then loosening it. His knees buckled as she began gently stroking him. He was so surprised and turned on by her. She was taking initiative. He still had her up against the tree, but in reality she had him, by his cock to be exact...and he loved every second of it. She stopped and he nearly whimpered for her to start again. She was tantalizing. She explored him with her fingers, taking him in by touch, not sight. She wanted to memorize every ridge and vein on his dick.

There was a method to Michonne's madness. Pleasuring each other was twice as hot when they couldnt see each other; and Merle seemed to be going mad with anticipation. He looked at her with dazed eyes. She was in control now and it was so deliciously hot. She was exploring him with her curious hands. For such a sexually inhibited woman, she sure was sensual...and irresistible in her own right. She was his little Nubian vixen for sure. She had all of the power in her hand and knew it.

"Let me eat you right here," He suggested, almost begging. "If you thought my fingers were good, you'll love my tongue," He said in an effort to entice her and appeal to her inner sex goddess. "The mood's too good to stop now." He growled, taking her head into his hands and kissing her. She released his hard cock from her hand, bringing both of them up to caress his back in a tender gesture.

"You don't want me to-?"

"Sweetheart," He purred with that sultry southern voice she couldnt say "no" to. "Lay in the grass for me," She obediently did so, then looking up at him. He stooped down and unfastened the button on her shorts. He pulled them down and saw that she was wearing thin, laced black panties with a tiny bow on the top. He was nearly salivating. Not only was she sexy, but she had good taste in underwear. He looked up at her, wanting permission. "Is it okay if I pull them down?" He wanted her to feel comfortable and sure of him.

"Yes."

She didn't have to tell him twice. He placed each hand on both sides of her waist, grabbing at the soft fabric of the waistband of her panties. He slowly pulled them down, his eyes surveying her lovely landscape. She had such flawless skin, the beautiful dark shade that he began to adore. He kissed her in every spot as he slowly and tortuously slid down her panties. His lips traveled from her hips, then to her thighs. He stopped to admire her pussy, she kept it shaved just like had liked. He briefly kissed the surface of it, then quickly removing her shorts and panties. He couldn't wait to see her spread eagle for him. "Mmm, you're so beautiful," He mused, zipping up his pants. "Now spread them legs for me, honey."

As much as he wanted to have her right in the field it just wasn't time yet. But he figured the time was coming very soon. And once it does she'll never be able to shake ol' Merle. He already adored her. But having sex with her would only make him wrapped around her petite finger even more. He'd never leave her be then, not that he would now. So for now he'd let his tongue and mouth have their day.

She faintly recalled the possibility of getting caught as she did as he told her. She moved slow, watching his eyes drop to her pussy. He ignored the protest from his dick. He just wanted her to enjoy the moment.

Being with Merle like this was invigorating. She felt the tall grass brush against her ass and other bare parts. She hadn't done anything in a field, especially something like this. He abruptly lifted her up by her ass, her legs dangling in surprise. In less than 5 seconds he was nose deep within her. He slowly licked at her clit, slightly nibbling it with his teeth. Oh he was deliciously strong and bold as he effortlessly supported her weight with his hands. The man just screamed SEX. Any type. She nearly screamed at the unexpected sensation, forgetting where she was. She was in the back of Merle's shop in a field spread eagle for him.

It felt so erotically risky and hot. Nature was everything. Desire was everything. "Oh fuck, you taste good!" He marveled, then greedily thrusting his tongue deep into her. She tasted like hot, liquid sex...musky, erotic and aesthetically pleasing on every level. She was like Heaven to his taste buds and nose.

A sharp moan escaped her as the pleasurable sensation shook her core. "Merle!," She called out in pure pleasure, bringing in his face with her hands. She wanted more. She needed more. "More."

She was as lusty and deprived as he was, and by God Merle was going to give her more. He moved his tongue in a circular motion against her clit and removed one hand from her behind. He held her up with one hand while he stuck his index and middle finger into her yearning pussy. He pleasured her with his fingers as he licked and sucked at her aroused clit and swollen labia. She moaned aloud, desperately grabbing at the thick, long grass.

She was shaking like a leaf and lusting like a female cat in heat. The feel of his rugged and thick fingers against her aroused nether regions was too good to forget. Surely she'd be dreaming of his fingers...and other things inside of her. It would make their co-existence even harder. But she threw caution to the wind, running her fingers through his course hair as he continued pleasing her. She chanted his name and threw her head back.

He sucked up every heavenly drop of her pussy juice as he rammed his fingers in and out of her. He loved the feel of her liquid, heat against his fingers and mouth. He loved hearing her say his name while he was making her come. That got him going like nothing else. This was their second time fooling around and he hadn't came, but he didn't want it to be about him. He wanted it to be all about her pleasure and satisfaction.

It was almost sundown and urgency and lust took over as he withdrew his fingers one last time. Her convulsing walls resisted, finally giving way. They both felt like over-sexed teenagers. Though it had been a long time for Michonne, and Merle just didn't have that Earth-shaking connection with a woman before. He licked her to her own mind-numbing nirvana. "Bite my finger," He urged her between licks, wanting to muffle her lusty noises. She gently bit his finger, she was shaking as the orgasm rolled through her body. It was all too much. "Mmm." He eagerly lapped up all of her pussy's juices. He released her and placed her body fully on the ground.

She exhaled deeply, releasing the thick grass and sitting up. "That was...," She struggled to catch her breath. "Amazing." She praised him, as he looked at her.

He licked his lips and sucked the remnants of her release off of his fingers. "You taste so damn good," He said, leaning into her and kissing her deeply. She wasn't keen on the taste of herself, but she loved Merle's kisses. She neglected to realize that she was stark naked from the waist down. He sensed her growing alarm and handed her her shorts and panties. "It's almost sundown so we need to get going," She hurriedly put on her panties and shorts, then standing up. He looked up at her, finally standing up. He gently grabbed her hand. "Come on," He urged, leading her back to the truck. He opened the door for her and shut it, then getting into the driver's seat. He gazed at her for a moment. "Told you that I'd always take care of you." He boosted with a smile.

"Guess you really do deserve dinner." She said with a content sigh.

Damn right.

**I appreciate every comment that I get! I'm really liking where this story is going! I'm writing as I go so...yeah ^_^. Please, please forgive any grammatical errors. I've read these 4,100 words several times and I'm screaming uncle! I can't re-read it anymore! Haha. But regardless, I hope you all like it because I did ;P. Any comment is great. P.s, I might need to make my chapters shorter lol. **


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